Today I ate bon bons and took a nap. Seriously. And because I have a cold, I feel like I can get away with it without any judgment. Even though the last thing I should be eating when I have a cold is sugar, I ate the candy anyway.
Last week after Grandma's funeral, the whole gang of us (aunts, uncles, mom, dad, sisters, cousins, niece) all went to her favorite candy store--Marie's Candies--in West Liberty, Ohio (If you've never been there--check it out. It's a fun day trip). It was quite a pilgrimmage and I'm guessing we seriously helped their bottom line that day. It's a family business and several of the people who work there knew Grandma and Grandpa for many, many years, and we got to know them, too. So it was really only fitting.
Anyway, Mom wanted to send home some chocolate for the boys for Valentine's Day. She usually sends a box on special occasions. I was happy to discover that Marie's now has a Candy Registry whereby you can "register" for your favorite candies! To me, this is genius nothing short of whoever figured out how to split the atom. Because really, who needs to know how to split the atom? It's more important for people to know what kind of candy I like if they want to send me candy. Atom, schmatom. Now my Mom can just go in there and say, "Please make up a box for Natalie," and voila. So what if I chose something no one else around here likes. I bought them bags of assorted seconds to keep them happy.
My box of favorites is now hidden here in the house, as are the bags of "seconds," which are probably candies that didn't make the "Marie's Cut" because the swirl on the top isn't right or their shape is a little off. I have no problem with defective swirls or slightly off kilter shapes, personally. So now Eamonn is probably reading this and his chocolate radar is going off like mad. "What? There's candy hidden in the house?" And he can look all he wants, but it's carefully hidden until Valentine's Day. Sorry, Honey, but you and I both know that you and chocolate can't coexist for any length of time.
The only rub in this situation is that I only allow myself to eat candy or other treats once a week. I eat pretty well all week long and then on Fridays, I basically eat whatever I want. It may sound archaic, but it's a system that works for me. Because I came home with my own box of favorites, there's no way I'm leaving it out for the candy hounds in this house to ravage. I just don't think they stop to really savor and appreciate before they stuff it in their gobs. So I've decided I'm hiding my box and I'll treat myself to a little each Friday. Eventually I'll have to share the love, because believe it or not, good chocolate actually goes bad and it would be a crime for that to happen and also, it would be a crime for me to eat an entire pound of chocolate myself. And kind of gross.
Now I need to go and keep an eye on Eamonn as he rootles around the house and tries to figure out where everything is hidden. . .