Sunday, April 17, 2011

Confessions of a Candy Whore

Every year for Lent, I usually forgo the Sunday rule because I feel like it's cheating. Sure The Bible or something says it's okay, and if we're living life by some type of rule book, I suppose The Bible is the book of rules that it would be . . . but still . . . if you're going to give something up for 40 days, it should be for 40 actual days . . . right?

But candy has some kind of evil hold over me. It might very well be made by the Devil* himself. So my point is, that last Sunday I ate candy . . . like, a lot of candy. But it's not really about how much candy I ate, ( although I'm pretty sure it's more than that German kid from the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory would eat in one day) it's the fact that I ate it.

Also, I've already had some today . . . but the point is that I wanted to confess. I know you all kind of view me as some sort of Super Woman who is amazing at everything she attempts . . . and usually that is the case. However, if you ever found yourself in a situation where we had to battle each other in some sort of "to the death" type match, all you would have to do is bring a bowl of candy and set it between us. I would eat the whole thing, and you could either kill me while I was eating it (which would kind of be considered a sucker kill) or you could wait until I'm done and make me fight you on a stomach full of candy . . . and if you've ever exercised on a stomach full of candy, like I myself have . . . several times . . . you would know, that defeat would be quick, and quite embarrassing on my part.

Okay, I feel a little better. Now if you'll excuse me, I only have 12 hours of designated candy eating left.

*Should devil be capitalized? Seems like kind of a blow to the capitalization of G in God. Am I right?