“Daddy, can we get Yogos?” asked the child to whom I was paying scant attention.

Yogos … Yogos … what is that? Some premium cable channel? A brand of athletic footwear? A lethal retrovirus?

John Kessler writes food features and a column about food and more for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution E-mail John Kessler Recent Kessler columns A forgotten recipe, a stew that fits all restrictions  Atlanta food expert explains the science behind her recipes  Your fool-proof checklist for Thanksgiving         More John Kessler Related: Christmas recipes Atlanta Holiday Guide AJC Food & Drink Evening Edge Atlanta Restaurant reviews and search Recipes from Atlanta restaurants Favorite Atlanta recipes

“Yogos are really delicious!” the little one pleaded, “and they’re made from fruit and yogurt so they’re good for you, and I want them in my lunch! Please?”

This, coming from the child who doesn’t eat her lunch. If we forget to check her backpack over the weekend, we’ll find on Monday that Friday’s ham sandwich has, um, taken on a life of its own.

If she promises to eat her sandwich, I’ll buy Yogos. Deal? Deal.

The next time I was in the supermarket I searched out the hateful snack food aisle — the one I avoid at any cost. Small, colorful boxes of lunchbox stuffers screamed in Technicolor from the shelves.

One whole side was filled with FRUIT SNACKS! Fruit by the Foot! Fruit Gushers! Fruit Stackerz! There were — kid you not — fruit Lego “Fun Snacks.” You snap them together. According to the box, “Grape + Cherry = Graperry.” When I was a kid, I wasn’t allowed to eat Legos. I wasn’t even allowed to eat Play-Doh.

There I found the Yogos, which identified themselves as “yogurty covered fruit flavored bits.” Mmmm, bits. The front panel pictured a surgically bisected Yogo, showing a tremulous purple center within its mottled, Martian-green jacket of yogurty business. It was touted as a “good source of calcium” and offered “100% daily value of vitamin C.” What more could a parent ask for?

I turned to the ingredient list to learn the Yogos’ true mettle and read the first two components: sugar and partially hydrogenated palm kernel and palm oil. Of course. But I assumed that already. Besides, I was practically raised on Crisco and Little Debbie Snack Cakes, and I came out just fine. Well, overweight and mildly hypertensive, but I’m working on it. And life’s a journey, right? A few Yogos here, a few Yogos there …

As much as I hate this kind of factory food, I wouldn’t be a bluenose about it. I didn’t care about the boast of “apple puree concentrate” and “nonfat yogurt powder” somewhere in these bits. I realized what they were: jellybeans. So I bought the Yogos, presented them to my daughter and made sure we both knew we were talking about candy. They lasted about two days in the house, as do any sweets we put in the kitchen cabinet. A couple lunches, a couple after-school snacks, and bye-bye Yogos.

We’ve also been working on lunches. My kid admitted to me that she can’t face a warm, soggy sandwich in the middle of the day, and I can’t blame her. She does like it when I pack good Greek yogurt, honey and apples. It’s not candy, but she’ll eat it.

YOUR TURN: What kind of snacks do your kids eat at school? And how do you strike a balance between convenience and nutrition? Between sweets and not?