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.