Where am I?
WHO am I???
What are all those small wrappers all over the floor? OH dear god...did I do that!?! I DID THAT!!!
Blech to candy and blech to small bags of crunchits cheeto thingos.
I don't know what happened to me yesterday. Normally, I am a woman of MUCH discipline. So much discipline in fact that I am actually a totaly a$$hole about sugar. Total.
I'm an anti sugar drill sergeant. I would even dare to say that I'm a sugar nazi, but I don't want to use that word too much, lest it attract that wrong crowd of internet surfers, or make me look insensitive about a certain INFAMOUS period of history. So, I'll leave it to you guys to come up with a word that says that I am MILITANTLY ANTI SUGAR AND JUNK.
That's right. In the past when the kids have received bags of candy from the relatives, I've smiled and said; "oh, isn't that nice!" and then I went home and threw that crap out. I am not a fan of candy. I do not think empty sugar foods are "treats." I almost never buy the FUN cookies, and I skip right the hell past that bakery section of the grocery store.
By the time Halloween or Easter come, I'm nearly fit to be tied. Why? Because I'm SO FREAKING ANAL about the kids wolfing down so many sugar treats. I admit it! I should relax, but I can NOT relax.
And here's the irony: when I was a kid, our cupboards were stocked with crap. There were always bags of chips, various bags of cookies, breakfast cereals with marshmallows in them, boxes of Jos. Louis in the fridge, jam-filled turnovers for dessert, pop tarts for whenever, stashes of chocolate in the pantry.... Oh, and we had dessert nearly every night, and if my Mom didn't bake it herself, she bought it at the grocery store.
We had so much shit that we could even complain about what shit we had. For example: "Spanish Bar cake? Yuck! I HATE Spanish Bar cake!" This was a dark brown cake with raisins, and creamy white frosting from the grocery store. I actually took a pen to the label on the cake once and changed it to "Spanish BarF Cake."
I'd also waa-waa about the odd time a Sara Lee Cake would pop up for dessert--ESPECIALLY the coconut one. That's how spoiled with junk food we were: we could actually complain about the "treats" we had.
Now, I'm not trying to slag my Mom. I don't think it was abuse or anything that we had a house full of junk, but I do think it's kinda like a junkie living in a house full of CRACK COCAINE (is this still hip? Should I have said CRYSTAL METH?).
ie; NO WILLPOWER.
My Mom had TONS of willpower. Seriously--she was one of those people who was content with a couple of squares of chocolate when she had a craving. So, the cupboards of crap became the ultimate FORBIDDEN FRUIT. Whenever my parents would go out, or go on vacation, or Mom would go to work, my brother used to actually say; THE CUPBOARDS ARE OURS! And we'd go to town.
One of the lowest moments of my youth was when my parents went away on vacation, and after having a f*cking good time working our way through the cupboards there I was one night having a box of Crunch N Munch for dinner, and I was washing it down with gingerale. I think that's when I reached the bottom.
I hardly ever have anything fun to eat in the house anymore. This is not to say that I don't ORDER THE MAN TO GET CUPCAKES from the ohmyfreakinggod cupcake store that just opened right around the corner every couple of weeks.
I'm only a woman. A weak, fantastic, witty, charismatic woman...alas...
But yesterday? Oh snap.
We ate our way through 3 dozen pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies with orange icing, because come on--only an a$$hole doesn't put icing on sugar cookies. We also chowed through several mini pumpkin muffins (healthy! HEALTHY! Because only an anal freak sends a healthy baked good for the class party, right?!?). I had a small orgy that evening with mini chocolate bars and crunchy cheesy things.
Sugar and Junk, I'd like you to meet PMS. She'll LURV you guys. OH, and she's super easy, heh heh. Get in there, boys!
Oh, even better--The Man and I were standing on the front porch during trick or treat time sucking down a couple of "Crusty Wives" (what--you didn't notice the cocktail I myself created right there on the side panel of this blog???? For shame, good reader, for shame). My sister popped over for a minute and said "it stinks like booze on this porch."
Then I remembered that it is MY JOB to inspect the kids' candy to look for bullsh*t razorblade type things.
I actually let them keep MOST of it. I did, however, say no to the following:
1. giant gumballs. Sorry, but those are just stupid, and they suck after approximately five seconds anyway.
2. 3 mini candy canes. Um, hello? Am I an idiot? I KNOW these are not for sale in the stores yet. So no. No thanks.
3. the little baggy of animal crackers. Seriously? Are you retarded? You figured you'd get a couple of boxes of animal crackers and grab a handful with your potentially fecal coliform hands and put them in a bag with a few other small candies? Seriously, if you didn't have enough money to buy halloween crap to hand out, it's OKAY if you joined the other million OCTOGENARIANS on my street and just turned the lights off and pretended you weren't home.
4. These things:
I hate these things. They SUCK. They're impossible to chew, and they taste gross, you can NEVER get all the paper off, and the only person who has EVER liked them is everyone's DAD. GIVE THEM TO DAD, HE ACTUALLY LIKES THEM.
Things started to get bad though, because I could feel those old feelings coming over me. There was a tranced out moment with me on the floor next to Ella getting down to business with her discarded Lick-M-Aid. What's not to like? It's a candy STICK that you DIP IN to FAIRYLAND sugar!
And because the day was already shot to hell, I concluded with the last third of a bag of Doritos, because hell, why not?
So you see, people? Do you SEE why sugar is BAD, BAD, BAAAAAAD!?!? Nevermind cavities and how FREAKING TERRIFYING THE DENTIST IS, it's terribly, horribly addictive and it totally, totally f*cks up your body when you're mere months away from the
Must find carrot sticks....