Hiding Halloween treats from no one but myself

I have had to hide the Halloween candy from myself. And yes, I am slightly ashamed to admit that.
Look, it’s not like I didn’t try to avoid buying Halloween candy until the very last minute. I did try that. But do you know how difficult it is to shop anywhere in October and not buy a package of Halloween candy? Honestly, you’d have to be a saint to do that. And when it comes to chocolate, I’m no saint. I am merely a human with an overactive sweet tooth.
So recently I was at Costco and I picked up a ginormous bag of candy. Now I was smart about it. I picked one that had no chocolate whatsoever in it. I’m like a total candy genius, right? Yeah, not so much. Turns out my sweet tooth isn’t very picky at all and will accept licorice, Nerds and Starburst as an adequate substitute for chocolate. Who knew?
Anyway, I left the bag on the kitchen counter. And you can imagine my shock and horror when it fell on the ground and broke open. And by “fell to the ground and broke open,” I mean I stood on a step stool and dropped the entire bag onto the floor several times until the bag ripped and all the candy came spilling out.
Hey, don’t judge. You know that right now you’re wondering where you keep the step stool.
Anyway, after that I had no choice. I viewed this accidental opening of the candy bag as divine intervention. Obviously I was meant to eat every piece of individually wrapped red licorice and tiny boxes of Nerds in the bag. So I started eating. You can’t argue with divine intervention, folks. You can just sigh, unwrap the licorice and gorge yourself until your spouse comes home and catches you.
And yes, due to the aforementioned divine intervention, once your spouse comes home and finds you sitting at the kitchen island, surrounded by empty licorice packs, you will confess to eating nine pieces of licorice, five packages of Starburst, a couple of Lemonheads, some sour licorice and one box of Nerds. Or at least you will do that if you are me and that’s what really happened.
So once I saw Harry’s look of disgust (which I truly believe was mostly due to the fact that I ate his favorite Lemonheads and not because I can’t control myself around Halloween candy), I realized that desperate times called for desperate measures.
So I hid the Halloween candy.
Now Harry told me I was nuts. After all, if I were the one hiding the candy, obviously I’d know where I hid it, right? Um, hello. Does he not understand that logic doesn’t work on me? I mean, I lost my glasses a couple weeks ago and I still haven’t found them. And honestly? I wasn’t even trying to hide them. So who knows how good I will be at losing something when I try to do it. Right? Right?
Fine, Whatever. I am about to prove all of you wrong.
Now, first I hid it in the closet under the stairs. But that wasn’t a good hiding place. For one thing, it’s very dark under there, so I was worried I wouldn’t be able to find the candy again on Halloween. Oh, heck, who am I fooling? I moved it out of there because that’s where I keep the vacuum cleaner, so every time I went to clean up, I was taunted by an open bag of candy staring me in the face.
Finally I decided to hide it in the window seat in the kitchen. It’s the perfect place, because I am really the laziest person on earth. And to open the storage in the window seat, you have to take about 4 billion throw pillows off of it, then the seat cushions. Then you have to lift this heavy wooden lid and dig through some other junk that I’ve hidden there to get to the candy.
And it’s worked. For two entire days I have not touched one drop of Halloween candy. You see? I have successfully hidden the Halloween candy from myself. And as a reward, I am going to dig around in that window seat and get a Lemonhead. Or two. Or possibly seven. You know, because they’re small.