Candy, Evil CandyOn a recent shopping trip, I stopped in the candy aisle and stared at all the bags of individually wrapped candies piled high in preparation for Halloween. Here are the questions that ran through my head as my overactive sweet tooth screamed to be heard.
* Do I buy a couple of bags in case we have trick-or-treaters or do I move out of this cellulite-inducing aisle and make sure we're not home or just don't answer the door on Halloween?
* If I buy the candy, where do I hide it so my husband doesn't eat it all the Snickers and I'm not tempted to consume my fair share of 3 Musketeers?
* If I buy candy, do I deliberately buy kinds we don't like so we're not inhaling the leftovers in the early days of November?
* Why did we buy a house anyway? I didn't have this dilemma when we lived in an apartment because no kids ever came to the door. Oh yeah, we hated paying rent and gaining no equity.
I caved and bought the candy, though I compromised and only tossed two bags into the cart. Alas, they're kinds we like, the aforementioned Snickers (hubby) and 3 Musketeers (moi). I brought it home along with the other exciting purchases like tissues and and detergent. And like a good little girl, I hid the candy in the closet in my office. But the siren song must be strong (that or my husband knows me too well). While I'm at the computer working one night, he comes wandering in and asks, "Did you get any candy at the store?" Okay, at least he's aware enough that Halloween is around the corner. Otherwise, he wouldn't have asked the question because I never buy candy. Not that I don't love it, I just don't want to weigh as much as our pickup truck.
For a moment, I tried to play dumb. But after thirteen years of marriage, he saw right through that feeble attempt and I dragged out the hidden candy. And you know what the annoying part of this story is? To my knowledge, he hasn't been coming back in here and sneaking candy. Most of the Snickers are still there. The 3 Musketeers, however, are disappearing. Well, not really disappearing. I'm fairly certain that if I stood in front of the mirror, there would be all these individually wrapped candy-sized lumps attached to my stomach and hips. Sigh. Maybe I should take the remaining candy to my neighbor's house and have him hold it hostage until Halloween. Or maybe I should have more willpower and not buy any next year and plan a vacation during Halloween.