Who Moved My Cheese?!

Here’s the thing: I love cheese.

Like Uncle Buck, I eat a lot of the stuff. I love it in a “nothing tastes better, when I’m really in a snacky frame of mind, than a hunk or slice or pinch of cheddar” kind of way. I do it on burgers. I melt it on apple pie. I liquefy it and dunk Wavy Lays in it.

Cheese, me likey.

And it’s not so much that you keep moving it; our fridge isn’t enormous or over-crowded, so I can generally track it down when the craving hits.

It’s that you keep leaving the damn bag open! Even though it has a convenient little zipper thingy.

But I understand: your fingers are small and uncoordinated. Even though you play video games with no problem, and type remarkably well for your age, I hear your pain when it comes to having to squeeze together the packaging along that right-in-plain-sight line so that a tight seal is magically formed. You know why they make those zippy things, right? Of course you do. You’re a very bright child. Say it with me . . . They put the zipper on there so that the cheese stays moist, tender, edible . . . and doesn’t get all crusty or turn green.

You know this. Yet, there’s my cheese, the cheese I paid for, Dad’s Cheese, looking very sad. The cheese wants to be eaten, my dear offspring. It wants to be there, when I come looking for it, and it wants to feel worthy of being eaten. It doesn’t want to be all shriveled and nasty. It has a reputation to uphold, an image to maintain, and when you haphazardly place it back in the bag and choose not to lock the door, to seal it in, to tuck it in all cozy and safe, you hurt the cheese’s feelings. You laugh at my cheese’s pain, and tell it, “I don’t care about you, cheese.”

My cheese weeps.

So, your mom, who (1) is the real brains in this bunch, (2) is one who hates to see unhappy cheese , and (3) is fed up with my whining about the state of the cheese, has taken it upon herself to lend a hand. She has begun purchasing my cheese, my very special, part of the family, cheese, in some brand new packaging. It’s so new, I couldn’t even find a picture of it online. Not even at kraftfoods.com. I have had to resort to taking a picture of my new cheese . . .

. . . just so my Tweakers could see this awesome new cheese packaging. My glorious cheese, nestled contentedly in a hard, plastic container. With a lid! Observe how, when you pull the little tab in the upper-left-hand corner . . .

. . . it opens so nicely and smoothly. Even better, when you get through stealing my cheese, all you have to do is put the lid back on, press it all together, and . . .

. . . presto! My cheese is tucked away again, all comfy and smiling. With this innovative new package design, my cheese will never lose its youthfulness. Its beauty. It will sing with joy, I assure you.

And so will I when I next open the refrigerator door to get some of my cheese, and it is consumable.

We have the tools in place. Let’s agree to work together to keep the cheese, and me, happy.

Kapiche . . . ?

[photo credit]

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30 thoughts on “Who Moved My Cheese?!

  1. I think the best cheese I’ve ever had was called “Stanky Truck Driver Cheddar.” It was the second harshest cheese at a cheese store in Vermont. The harshest? “Old Dirty Rat Trap.”

    God, I love smelly cheese.

  2. Where does one find “Stanky Truck Driver Cheddar”? I might slip some of that in the fridge and let them try it. They might just start leaving my cheese alone . . .

  3. OK, not to be ‘Debbie Downer’ here but I see a potential problem with this packaging. What happens if the cheese swiper doesn’t put the lid back on properly?

    (Brenna – from bookclub)

    • Well, we’ve done some roleplaying with the new packaging, trying it out and seeing how easy it is. So far, so good . . .

      Welcome to The Cheek, Brenna . . .

  4. I’m sorry-how do we close this cheese container? How is this container better than the last? I know you love the cheese …….so……..quit cutting it!!!

    That is what you do best!!!

    Dad

  5. You want to talk cheese? You want to talk stinky cheese? I’ve smuggled in so much cheese from France that my suitcase permanently smells like a Parisian fromagerie. And if you want stinky, try some some Epoisses from Burgundy. Once my husband brought me FIVE POUNDS of gorganzola from Italy. But when it’s all said and done, I love me some Cracker Barrel Sharp Cheddar on a Triscuit.

    Don’t get me started on cheese.

  6. I love those new cheese containers. Like you, I’m really, really fond of cheese. I’m really glad your wife was able to solve that problem for you. Wives are awesome, aren’t they?

  7. My only problem with your new cheese—-only 10 slices in a package. Good lord, man! Do you have any idea how quickly 10 slices would disappear around this place?

  8. I’m guilty of leaving the cheese open. Plus other things…. I don’t know why I do it, but I find half screwed on lids, open zip locs, open bags, etc. all the time. Most of the time I don’t even realize that I’m doing it until I find it later!

  9. I have a basic principle about milk. When it spoils, don’t rename it, THROW IT AWAY!

    Don’t call it yogurt, or buttermilk, or cheese, or sour cream, or whatever, throw it away!

    I especially get tired of restaurants that decide every thing needs a chunks or coatings of yellow fat added to it. If I order chili, I shouldn’t have to make a point of mentioning that I want it without cheese.

    Thanks Brian, I needed a good rant and hadn’t come up with anything to rant about yet!

  10. Why do kids do that?? It starts with the cheese and deli meats bags, and then it’s the cabinet doors! My kids simply cannot close cabinet doors. Sometimes I want to tear the door down and beat them with it. Do you think maybe it’s an ability that has to be learned with age like first words, first steps, etc?

  11. I’m a cheese lover too. Buy stinky cheese – our kids leave it alone. Costco sells the cheese sticks (mozzarella and cheddar) at a great price – might be a good alternative for the kids.

    Funny post. I feel the need… the need for cheese!

  12. This is hilarious because I have recently struggled with trying to close those supposed zip lock bags. I seem to have an affinity for buying those that just promise zip locking but rarely deliver! It may close for others who have the magic pinch, those who can line up those tracks just right and press. But, I’ve taken to putting elastics around the zip lock!

    I can readily see that we all need someone like your wife in our life!!

  13. Ziplock bags annoy me. Not that this may surprise you, since it seems alot of things annoy me.

    I’m a weird guy… i’m not a big cheese lover, yet pizza and mozzarella sticks are two of my favorites. Go figure.

  14. I am from Wisconsin so cheese is practically a religion for me. My children and even the husband at times cannot be bothered to close almost any packaging, especially fo the cheese and bread variety. I even got the packaged cheddar like you show and the lid was always haphazardly thrown on like an afterthought. Now I have resorted to hiding “my” cheese int he fridge and letting the rest of them eat the cracked dried out fridge flavored cheddar, yuk.

  15. See, this is why I love string cheese for my kids. It keeps their grubby little cheese-seeking fingers relegated to a format-specific segment of the fridge, and off my own bricks of Vermont cheddar and Italian fontina. They know if they want a chunk of the good stuff, they gots to go to the boss. This? This format seems problematic.

    That being said, I respect the fact that you took the time to create a photographic record of exactly how this new cheese technology works.

  16. I am a complete cheese head, as are my daughters. We have to buy a lot of cheese, usually sharp cheddar, or else we get grumpy. I get grumpy, like you, if I don’t have my cheese.

  17. I hate to tell you this, Brian, but they don’t close the cheese any better at 22 than they do at your kids’ age. Which is when you contemplate kicking their lazy, can’t-figure-out-how-a-zipper-lock-works asses out on the street.

  18. “Who moved my cheese?”

    I thought only my wife said that. Yes, I fear my many neuroses concerning refrigerator-and-other-etiquette will soon be exposed once our 2 yr old can open the refrigerator door. Although he rearranges my bookcases and I seem able to tolerate that, so maybe there is hope.

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