Back in my day, there was a hotline called T.I.P. - Turn In Pushers. I need to find that number and make a call. My pusher's name is Little Debbie, and she needs to be punished.
Every Christmas, this evil one comes out with her "Christmas" snack cakes. While they may not be wonderfully delicious, they are horribly addictive. I will not even mention how many I devoured yesterday in a near overdose, or the residual sugar hangover I awoke with this morning.
Luckily, I had an intervention with myself. My hips and thighs told how these cakes were putting extra burdens on them. My brain wailed about the extra sugar that impacted its normally insightful thoughts. My teeth spoke of the threat of cavities. We each had a turn trying to show the destructive path I was on.
Happily, the intervention worked, and yesterday's snack cake binge is history. I have learned the lesson of snack cake addiction, and am on my way to recovery, one bite at a time.
I think I may just get through this holiday season - if that dealer Reeses would just move his peanut butter Christmas trees to another universe!
2 comments:
Oh my gosh, Luanne... I have become hopelessly addicted to these very same two items this year. Why is that?? I don't even actually LIKE the Little Debbie Christmas Trees! How odd that of all the "junk" on the shelves, we both have the same two??
I think it is a conspiracy!! Or, as Anne of Green Gables said, "kindred spirts." Or, as Disney sings it, "It's a small world after all."
Sorry - still on sugar overload!!
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