Halloween Hangover

IMG_4051I’m not sure exactly where it all went wrong.  I bought the kind of Halloween candy that I do not like and therefore would not eat.  I even bought it a week ahead of time and wasn’t in the least bit tempted by the gummy spiders and gummy body parts.  (Ewwww.)  I put Halloween night on my mental calendar like a shining beacon: On this night, you, too, can binge to your heart’s content.  On this night, you can eat every single one of your children’s peanutty treats and save their little lives while you indulge yourself.  The night is waiting for you.

Too bad I could not wait for it.  I don’t know what happened.  The road to a massive coronary is paved with good intentions.  It was three days before Halloween.  One minute I was in Shoppers, buying milk, thinking good thoughts about the shining beacon, blah, blah, blah.  The next minute I had THREE peanutty chocolatey things in my shopping bag.  Adult sized-peanutty chocolatey things.  That I had no intention of sharing and every intention of inhaling.  And having duly inhaled, I was not in the least deterred from repeating the over-indulgence on Halloween night.

Ah, the blissful moment came when I had eaten 4000 calories’ worth of my kids’ loot, turned out the porch light, climbed the stairs and, while loading the washing machine, had a lovely chat with my beloved Eldest about his night with his friends and his hockey practice.

“By the way, Mum.  Did you remember to make the cookies I asked you for for my class party tomorrow?”

No.  No, I did not remember to bake cookies for the day after Halloween.  No.

“Oh, honey.  Couldn’t we just send in left-over candies?” I pleaded, thinking of gummy spiders and body parts.  (Again, ewwww.)

“But, Moooooom.  I pledged your amazing, world-famous in our own family, chocolate chip cookies!!”

Long story short, I can add cookie batter to the list of the night’s many, many, many indulgences.

The next morning, I woke with new determination to put all of that madness behind me.  I drank one cup of coffee, ate one apple, went out with a friend for coffee and, instead, ordered a cleansing juice.  I was going to clean my body and mind of the Halloween madness.

Until 10:30, when I came home and saw the bowl of uneaten, peanutty chocolatey loot.

It’s not a slippery slope.  It’s a frigging rock slide.


9 thoughts on “Halloween Hangover

  1. This is so funny, Nathalie. I had a bunch of Oh Henry’s a couple nights in a row. I’m trying, but I don’t have FurtherMo’s confidence that it’s over…

  2. Those damn things are so insidious. They look so small and innocent, until you’re sitting next to a pile of twenty little wrappers.

    • Ted’s favourite fill-in-the-blank sentence is, “There are no calories on ____.” As in, “There are no calories on your birthday.” “There are no calories if it’s a mini-candy bar.” “There are no calories on the weekend.”

  3. I always buy the mini, or “fun” size candy because it’s not really like eating an entire candy bar…until you eat four or five mini, fun-size bars, every hour. I usually forget the candy is there until I am reminded of it by, say, reading a blog post about eating candy and suddenly I feel the pull. I may need to move out until it’s gone.

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