The Easter chocolate is officially out of my house, which means I now have a sporting chance of getting onto my spring health kick. I’ve been avoiding stores – and therefore the Easter candy on sale in hopes that I can be done with my April sugar high. It’s so hard, isn’t it? Having a vice that rules your world?
I originally thought I could avoid the chocolate issue and just steer clear of most of my favourites. I gave up Easter Crème Eggs, and just plain avoided Laura Secord – which has my favourite of all favourites – the high end Easter crème egg if you will. The Easter bunny brought my kids a solid bunny, a hollow Belgium bunny, a big Secord crème egg, along with some jellies in eggs hidden around the house. I figured they’d go through it fast enough that my temptation to dip into their stash would be short-lived. But – this year Lainey decided she liked toys better than candy, so decided she’d sell her loot to the highest bidder in order to fund her hankering for Moshi Monsters – the new toy fad for 7-10 year olds.
Her Laura Secord Egg – which is my favourite but not apparently hers, was going for a dollar more than what the stores sold it for. Because I was jonesin’ for that damn egg I tried to reason with her on Saturday night right before family movie time.
“I can buy that for a dollar less at the store,” I said.
“Yeah, but you’d have to drive there which costs gas money, plus, you’d have to change out of your pajamas. That’s worth a dollar for sure.”
She had me there. The bad news is – that kid is one sneaky, money hungry little beast. The good news is that she’ll likely get a job as a lawyer and never have to worry about cash flow – especially if she continues on the path of master shark negotiator.
Regardless, there are no more traces of Easter chocolate in this house, so I am starting the day with good intentions to stay off that which I crave so desperately. Who knew chocolate would be such a monkey on my back? I was talking about it this week at the grocery store with the checkout girl, who admitted working amongst marked down Easter candy was hell. I believe her wholeheartedly. Anyway, the two of us – both quite obviously sugar lovers by the excess around our middles – were laughing and griping about the siren’s call of all things chocolate and how it’s so hard to kick it. That’s when the trim, fit, spray-tanned woman behind me in line piped into our conversation.
“Have either of you tried a cleanse? It would get you on the right track, and your craving for sugar would be eliminated,” she smiled. She looked so pleased that all 110 pounds of her could contribute to our conversation and potentially save us from fat girl hell.
I wanted to tell her that I could snap her little bird-frame like a twig, and would do just that it she didn’t pipe down and back off. That’s exactly what two chunky monkeys want invading bonding over their sugar addiction – advice from a stick bug. Before I’d even fully registered what she’d said (because it always takes me a minute to absorb this kind of rude behavior from strangers), the checkout girl said – “I’ll stick to chocolate thanks.”
We laughed, the tanned stick bug soured, and that was the end of that. And I guess I have to wonder if people actually think they are being helpful, or if there is a self-serving sanctimonious thing happening there. I’ve lived many years trim, fit, and even spray tanned – and also lived too many years now on the chunky monkey side of the fence – and I can tell you – when I was the stick bug, I didn’t offer advice to women who had weight to lose. Call it courtesy, call it compassion, call it a healthy fear of getting bopped in the nose, but I would never have been so smug to offer wisdom from the thin side. Then again, some skinny girls just don’t get it.
But I digress. Candy sales averted, I am starting down the right path. Again.