I waited to purchase candy right up until the bitter end. The potential for abuse and misuse was very high on my end. I knew this. But I still allowed myself to stumble. Five days prior to Halloween I made my purchase.

Just don’t open it. No biggie.

Within hours it was open. I told the kids we could each have one. Innocent enough.

Just have one. OK two. But that’s it. Then hide it from the kids.

The kids?! Hide it from yourself, woman!!!

I hid it, and proceeded to sneak candy daily up until it was time to dump it out in a bowl for the happy trick-o-treaters.

Hmm. That’s interesting. It seemed like I had more candy before. The bowl doesn’t look very full…

One more trip to the store to pick out candy, replacements for my theivery. And though that candy is gone, dispersed to the safety of the neighborhood children, there is a new crop of candy in our house, and I’ve just broken in to that stash. Kids asleep, entrusting their hidden bags to me.

Two Twizzlers, a Whopper (OK, so Franny gave it to me earlier) and a Milky Way later, I sit in disgust and guilt at my weakness.