my children’s Easter candy, my shame

It’s my fault.

It’s my fault for having bought so darn much of it.

And it’s my fault that I apparently have much, much less willpower than my three children.

As I sit here typing I can hear, from the next room, a vast assortment of gummy delights and semi-melted chocolate whispering my name. Today, I tell myself, today I will not give in to temptation. But I am Mother, and I am home, and I am weak.

So vex me no more, Reester Bunny! Hie thee away, Life Savers Pastel Jellybeans! Haunt me no more with your strawberry-kiwi deliciousness, for you are meant for CHILDREN, children who have long, long ago forgotten that you await them in the cabinet above the microwave.

When I was a youngster I clearly remember working methodically through my two-pound (solid) chocolate crucifixes and lambs until they were gone, and wayyy before the city pool opened for the summer. I don’t know where my children got their temperance. Certainly not from me. I sent three bags of Halloween candy, groaning under their weight, with my husband to his office the week after Thanksgiving– but only after I’d gained a permanently hard belly from a month’s steady diet of Sixlets-in-a-tube.

So I’m giving it one more dinnertime for the kids to remember they have uneaten bounty for dessert, and then into the wastebasket you shall go.

Yea, I have not forgotten you; and I will never forget you, Hollow Double Crisp Too-Tall Bunny. But you are too tall, otherwise there would be a lot less of you left a month after you came into my life.

Does anyone else suffer my shame? Please say yes.



One more shoutout for my FreshDirect giveaway, which ends Sunday, and for Listen To Your Mother, happening in ten cities nationwide between now and May 12th. We’re 48 hours out from Listen To Your Mother NYC and I can’t sleep! Because it’s gonna be awesome, that’s why. See you on the other side! 


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