Yogurt: Why in the world does anybody eat this stuff?

It's supposed to be good for you, I know. What I don't understand is why.

Yougurt, sold openly in stores in containers such as that pictured above, is, insofar as I can tell, the exact same thing as milk that's been left in your refrigerator a week past its use-by date.

Except for Greek yogurt. That's milk that's been left in your refrigerator two weeks past its use-by date. That's why it's chunky.

And, yet, this container has on it its very own use-by date. A date that is, inexplicably, still in the future.

America: We don't make much of anything anymore, but we can market anything!

As you may be able to deduce from the foregoing, this container of yogurt, taken from the Curmudgeon family refrigerator, was not purchased for my consumption.

My wife, Long Suffering Spouse, claims to like plain yogurt. She uses it, sometimes, as an ingredient in 'smoothies.' These are concoctions, made with a blender, into which all manner of fruits and vegetables are hurled, there to be sliced, diced, and liquified. Along with yogurt.

It is a fate too horrifying to contemplate.

Mind you, I don't much care for fruits or vegetables either. But I harbor no special animus against them. I would never mutilate---indeed, utterly destroy---them in this fashion.

But my wife---my wife who claims to like fruits and vegetables---sees nothing wrong with condemning innocent fruits and vegetables to such a gruesome fate. With yogurt, yet.

But, whether it is from pangs of conscience or the press of time, Long Suffering Spouse does not always get the chance to ritually slaughter fruits and vegetables in whirling blades of death before her yogurt goes "bad."

Each time this happens, when she happens to mention it to me, I ask, "How can you tell?"

For some reason, my wife does not always find this endearing.

Since the Pandemic began, my wife and I often do our grocery shopping together. I go racing through the aisles, grabbing the usual sundries (bread, coffee, coffee cake...), and bringing them back to the cart; she lingers among the fruits and vegetables, carefully choosing which ones she will destroy. The container used in the above illustration was acquired during one such recent joint venture.

I brought it back to the cart as directed.

Now you have to understand that the last couple of times we have bought yogurt, my wife was unable to use it before it supposedly went bad. (I've also sometimes asked if yogurt becomes edible after its experation date; this, too, has not been well-received by my better half.)

Anyway, because I am an obedient husband, I fetched the yogurt, reporting the stated use-by date to Long Suffering Spouse, who always asks about such things. "Can we just throw it out now, when we go through the checkout line?" I asked, as I dutifully put the container in our cart. "It would save time later."

My wife was not amused. On the other hand, in the week or more since we returned from that expedition, she has not yet found time to make her "smoothies."

Meanwhile, as you can see, I have, finally, gotten some use from this purchase.