I usually don’t go shopping. I don’t go get groceries because I subscribe to the idea that in ancient times, men hunted the food, so…you know–I am a traditionalist–and I don’t want to take away the thrill of the hunt from my husband.
(Actually, part of it has to do with pregnancy complications, but I like the way my first explanation sounds so much better!)
I also allow the UPS guy the excitement of delivering non-perishable food items to my door. One day, he delivered brown rice noodles while I was having a breakdown because of some misbehaving children. I think he may have changed routes after that. It was really embarrassing.
For some reason, I found myself in a store this week, and it was a huge mistake on my part. You see, I forgot that it was already Easter candy season, it being February already. So, I was innocently walking down the aisle when I saw them…
I could almost hear the distinctive, yet quiet crunch that accompanies biting into that powdery, pastel candy shell…
$3.19 for a tiny bag of sugar, milk, chocolate, cocoa butter, soy lecithin, weird natural flavors, more sugar, gum arabic, and color with tartrazine (because you couldn’t have the beautiful pastels without it, I assume). I don’t even want to know what tartrazine is, but I know it’s not worth $3.19 a bag.
But, what did I do? I bought a bag. The imaginary crunch in my ears was overwhelming. I couldn’t stop myself.
I tried to tell myself that because they are produced in Poland, I was merely getting in touch with my family history and heritage and identifying with my culture, but I knew I was just rationalizing.
I did it in a hurry, hoping no one would see me put it in my cart (as if I now had a gigantic sign on my head saying, “No Sugar Preaching, Artificial Color Hating Hyprocrite!”)
It was embarrassing. But, just for me. I don’t think anyone else cared. But, you know, there were angels watching.
I tried to hide it from my kids, because I didn’t want them to see that dark side of me. But, I can’t hide anything. I am an open book. So, I shared the poison.
What is the matter with me? And why do they stock Easter candy in February?
I tell you, there is no health food that can match the pleasure of Cadbury Mini-Eggs. To me, that is proof that they should be classified as an addictive substance. In fact, the entry for Cadbury Mini-Eggs on Wikipedia (the source of all true knowledge) states:
Not to be confused with heroin.
Honestly, I really do think sugar is an addiction, and it is a really serious problem, probably because it looks so pretty and can come in pastel colors. I wish I could say that I wouldn’t have made the same mistake if I had to do it over again, but I probably would. If a woman who is totally anti-sugar can be tempted, anyone can, so, to quote Shakespeare:
Beware the Ides of March!
And February, and probably April for that matter, because that is when those delicious little eggs are sold. You don’t want to find yourself asking this question in May when you realize what they’ve done to you:
Et tu, Cadbury?
To make myself even more of a hypocrite, I will admit that I was just reading articles referring to scientists pushing to make sugar regulated like alcohol and tobacco because of its deleterious effects–AND I STILL BOUGHT THE BAG OF CANDY!!! Can you believe it?
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