So, Paul has recently been put in charge of my sweet tooth. We don’t generally keep “sweets” in the house, but anything even remotely close, I will eat.
Upon buying a bag of my favorite treat outside of chocolate (pull and peel twizzlers), I asked him lovingly to hide them from me, and only allow me one per day.
Now, I realize how unfair it is to make him the “bad guy”. I’m a grown woman, I should have the sense of control to not binge on sweets… but this just isn’t the case.
So today while cleaning, what should I stumble upon, but the stash of sweets.
I immediately text Paul to let him know that security has been breached and the stash has been compromised, BUT, I am no where near a sweet tooth attack.
A few minutes later I decide that I will have just one twizzler… just one.
2 delicious bites in the high-fructose corn syrup beauty, I start to choke. Raw throat, eyes watering, spit up a half-chewed piece of gross, choke.
I have learned my lesson about unsupervised snacking.