This Dairy Queen Item Was One of My Childhood's Greatest Joys

And of course, it's discontinued.

<p>Dotdash Meredith </p>

Dotdash Meredith

As a kid, my personality could be summed up with two indulgences: Sour Skittles and the legendary Oreo Brownie Earthquake from Dairy Queen. Sour Skittles were my reward for enduring errands with Mom while the Oreo Brownie Earthquake—a sundae built with hot fudge, chunks of brownie, and Oreo cookie crumbles—happened on special occasions.

But let's be clear—my Dairy Queen rendezvous had nothing to do with celebrations or emotional solace. I seized the moment whenever the opportunity presented itself. I could never frown in the face of the Oreo Brownie Earthquake, and Mom cleverly used it to her advantage. I can't blame her; raising quadruplets required employing every trick in the book.

I remember a particular middle school birthday pool party. My trio of brothers hosted a bunch of friends, and I escaped out of sight to Mom's bedroom to play computer games online with a friend (whom I didn't think to invite).

I was determined to have a miserable birthday if only to spite Mom for making us share it as if she chose to birth four humans at once. Also, I felt alienated from my brothers because they hung out with the same friends. I always gravitated toward a motley crew of misfits resembling the prepubescent version of the Suicide Squad.

The best parent ever, Mom knocked on the door like it was my bedroom, not hers.

"Honey, would you like to go to Dairy Queen?" she asked.

Without a second thought, I let my virtual army fall to their demise, surrendering them to their pixelated doom, all in the pursuit of chocolate brownie goodness. There was never a single moment in my childhood when I would have turned down such an invitation.

Why was Dairy Queen’s Oreo Brownie Earthquake the one salve to my wounds? Counseling psychologist Raffaello Antonino, PhD, says my insatiable craving was due to conditioning, neurobiology, and idiosyncrasy.

"Simply put, kids may learn to like specific foods because these are often used as rewards," says Antonino, "But it is indeed very hard to completely understand why a person starts to really like, say, apricots, while others don't. A specific liking can sometimes express a person's unrepeatable, unique personality."

And my love of that dessert ideal stays with me to this day. Hannah Mayderry, a licensed mental health counselor, says individuals fixate on specific food items from their childhood because of associations with feelings of safety, comfort, and happiness.

"When we were children, our worlds were much smaller, and food was one of the simple pleasures that were easy to understand and relish”, she says. “As we age, these specific food items serve as anchors to a time when life was simpler and, in many cases, happier."

Adulthood taught me nothing can stay the same, and Dairy Queen eventually discontinued the Brownie Oreo Earthquake. I've since traded in my sweet tooth for wine when I want to indulge, but I'm still taken back to the eager boy with chocolate all over his mouth whenever a waiter brings the dessert menu. Because maybe–just maybe–my favorite treat in the world lies one order away.