I was sitting on the couch watching a hockey game with my sister the other night when she said she wished there was something sweet to eat. So I offered vanilla Oreos, various Fair Trade chocolates and a Ding Dong.

"You have a Ding Dong?"

"Yar. Upstairs in my purse."

My sister went on the attack. "You have a Ding Dong in your purse? No you don't. Why would anyone have a Ding Dong in their purse?"

"Because they're wonderful and delicious and a taste of the innocence of childhood. And they fit easily into a handbag." I defended the Ding Dong. And its presence in my purse.

This whole thing - the Ding Dong in my purse - started with the news that Hostess was facing financial trouble. Fear of a world with no Hostess cakes went through our office here at Rodgers Townsend. Suddenly, Twinkies and Ding Dongs and Ho Ho's were about. People were eating them like they may never taste them again in life and they needed to savor them.

I felt like jumping on a chair with a bullhorn and hollering, "If we pull together, we can save the Twinkie and have our Ding Dongs too. Who's with me?"

Sometimes foods, eaten in moderation, are a joy. Particularly when they stand for happiness itself. I remember trading Twinkies for Ding Dongs at lunch in grade school. Those treats mean happy days and playgrounds to me. And they're yummy. So, yar, sometimes I have a Ding Dong in my purse. It's just a fancy grown-up version of my Wonder Woman lunch box anyway.