It’s nearly Halloween, and I have survived. For the past five
days, there have been bags of Halloween candy in my house, and I
did not eat the candy. I did not even taste the candy. I didn’t
even look at the candy and fantasize that I was ripping open all
the little bags and shoving the candy in my mouth.
It’s nearly Halloween, and I have survived. For the past five days, there have been bags of Halloween candy in my house, and I did not eat the candy. I did not even taste the candy. I didn’t even look at the candy and fantasize that I was ripping open all the little bags and shoving the candy in my mouth.
OK, maybe I did do that.
But I didn’t eat it. It was difficult, though. I mean, I haven’t ever been able to make it five days with candy in my house without devouring the entire bag. I’m horrible. I have a mouth full of sweet teeth and a dangerous addiction to the sugary, gooey, goodness of chocolate.
So for me, the true scary part of Halloween isn’t the witches and vampires that come to my door. It’s not even the skeletons and the haunted houses in my neighborhood. No, for me, the scariest part of Halloween is the bag of miniature Three Musketeers bars in my pantry.
Oh sure, I could save myself the torture. I could buy my candy on Halloween. But if I wait, only the gross stuff is left – the candy even I wouldn’t eat. And if I gave out that awful junk, everyone in the neighborhood would talk about me behind my back for years to come. I’d probably have to move, just to get away from the gossip. So I buy my candy early and hope for the best.
I admit it hasn’t always worked out. A few years ago, I woke up in the middle of the night, sitting in my closet with a stomachache and about 50 empty M&M wrappers clenched in my fists. That was pretty frightening.
And there have been times when I was weak and just gave in to the temptation of little, bitty Hershey’s bars. It’s hard to resist when there are packages of chocolate just sitting in the pantry. I’m only human, you know. One whiff of their delicious aroma and I swoon. I can’t be responsible for my actions if I’m swooning, can I?
But this year, I have not given into temptation. I have not woken to find myself sitting on a pile of candy wrappers. And I was able to do so because of two things: 1) I didn’t buy chocolate; and 2) I locked the candy in the spare room and made Harry hide the key.
Yes, that seems drastic, but you don’t understand – Halloween candy is evil. Once it gets into my pantry, it calls to me. I can hear it whisper “yum, yum” in the middle of the night. I can smell it every time I go into the kitchen. I swear to you, that candy has no shame. It wants me to break down and eat every last piece.
So it gets locked away. Where I can’t get to it. Where I can’t rip open the bags with my teeth and indulge my sugar cravings. Yes, I have done it this year. I have successfully made it five days without eating the Halloween candy.
OK, it’s just the Halloween candy that I have resisted. I mean, sure, I did buy that bag of miniature Snickers. And sure, that bag is empty now. And sure, I ate every last one of those sweet, little Snickers. But what counts here is that I didn’t touch the Halloween candy.
Of course, after Tuesday night, any leftovers are fair game. Maybe I should turn the lights out a bit early. You never know when you are going to run out of candy.
tructions. Her column is syndicated. She can be reached at
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