There are two LARGE bags of candy sitting in the kitchen, candy that my kids braved the bitter cold to procure on Halloween night. In fact, counting the bag of leftovers that didn't get handed out (said cold kept all but a handful of wee ghosties away), there are three.
Now, knowing that I have a wicked sweet tooth, and that I have personally seen, with my own eyes, dozens of Twix and Butterfingers in those bags and furthermore that I work from home full-time now and so am left completely alone with said three large bags of candy, you'd think this story probably has a predictable ending, right? And it probably involves me gaining five pounds, hiding candy wrappers under the coffee grounds in the garbage can, and explaining to the children that they've eaten a lot more candy than they thought they had.
Well HA! That is NOT the way it's going down with those three bags of candy. Because...
oh sweet mother what have I done?
I have given up chocolate.
Until April.
April 1st, to be exact.
Opening Day, 2007.
It seemed like a good idea at the time, and as it turns out it actually worked! Kind of. I made this sacrifice to the Baseball Gods just after they lost game 1 of the ALDS to the Yankees. "Oh merciful Baseball Gods," I pleaded. "Please help my Tigers get to the World Series, and if you do I promise to give up...
thinks quickly... has to be a true sacrifice, but nothing so harsh that I can't follow through on it. Too late to offer the firstborn. Sex? No! Alcohol? Ha! Sweets? N-... well, maybe not ALL sweets, but what about chocolate? Yeah, that's painful, shows I'm serious, but it's definitely do-able...
...CHOCOLATE! From now until... Opening Day next year! Just get 'em to the Series!"
And then... lo and behold, the Tigers won 7 in a row. American League Champions! World Series, baby! And I patted myself on the back, oh I did I did.
And then... well, we don't have to go into what happened next. Hoping the magic would work again, I offerred to extend the chocolate sacrifice, until the next World Series. Yes, you read that right. A whole YEAR. Never doubt how much I love my Tigers.
But the Gods were no longer listening. Or if they were it was in that "Well what more do you want from us we made the Cards hit easy grounders to your pitchers but even we couldn't help them when they kept overthrowing the 1st and 3rd basemen" way.
So the candy sits in the three bags, veritable mountains of chocolately goodness. And every once in awhile I walk into the kitchen and veer towards them, and then remember and walk forlornly away. Because I know that if I don't follow through on this promise that I will have absolutely no cred next year when we're in a close race for the AL Central with the Sox or Twins and I ask for that come-from-behind victory, or that strikeout with the bases loaded.
The only upside is that it's going to be a lot easier to get through the holidays without gaining that five pounds when chocolate is completely off the table. Halloween... Christmas... Easter... *sigh* Cold comfort, but I'll take what I can get.
And of course... there's always Skittles.
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3 comments:
I vote for insanity. Now, if you'd sworn off beer...
Okay, I'd still vote for insanity. But that'd be quite the sacrifice.
Brilliant! I so need to do some thing like that. I'm trying to convince myself that chocolate gives me migraines. Actually, it probably does, but I'm not willing to accept that yet.
Um, I vote for insanity, but with a dash of brilliance. And maybe a side order of OCD? Cheers for your commitment, though. Have fun at Safeco on Monday!
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