I sit there on that micro suede tan couch. Don't look at it I tell myself. Calmly reach over for the remote. Don't even think about it, Youngest. Scroll thru the million channels of reality television, infomercials, and bad supposedly funny sitcoms. Then I catch myself eyeing it. That overflowing, shiny glossy wrapper, filled with type 2 diabetes confections.
The candy bowl.
(First I was like to damn my old roommate for having this grandma inclination of having the candy bowl in the house and no less, in view when sitting on the couch. Damn you woman.)
Blackout.
I slowly open my eyes to see what is around me. Ravaged torn cellophane littered all around me, dark smears of chocolate on my fingers. What have I've done?!! Then picking myself up from my high fructose corn syrup high, I question myself. How could I have let this happen?
You see, temptation is a bitch.
Its that sleek dress that is just a bit over your price range, it's that tall, tattooed, guy staring at you like you were the cherry on top of a sundae, its the yeah, you can have one more drink then get home before waking up in four hours to go to work, it's the 80 dollar supplement for white truffles on your pasta.
Temptation is what evokes you to make choices based on your senses, not common sense. Its what catches you off guard to think... Could I? Should I? By all means, not all temptation ends in your complete demise leaving you to a life of ruin, compromised morals and wearing a scarlet T around your neck. (Except for Ms. Hester Prynne: not only did her hypocritical minister boyfriend deny his love for her but condemned her to all of the towns folk. He didn’t deserve her body and soul, he deserved the clap. Thank you Nathaniel Hawthorne for teaching us the grim future of touching a man of the cloth.)
What is comes down to is, is it worth it?
Will that dress be out of season in a month? Hell, if it's a bit too small it would be best to just put it back on that hanger where it belongs. Yes, that ridiculously attractive hipster may feed into your want to be dazzled about punk bands, muddle sticks, flannel shirts, various types of skinny jeans, and handle bar mustaches but are they going to love and support you when you are acting like a raging bitch? Do you really need another drink since you are already slurring at the bartender, lost your wallet, and you really do need to be at your best tomorrow. As far as the Alba white truffles are concerned, yes, they are worth it. Every time.
Let's return to the candy bowl shall we. Chocolate concoctions of caramel, peanuts, and chocolate sound amazing and seemingly feed the hungry sugar beast inside you. But what it doesn't accomplish is the satisfaction of true flavor and texture. Along side the incapable ability they have to fulfill your need, they are packaged in tiny little nuggets almost taunting you that oh, it's merely a bite, yes, take another, take thirty. And once you wake up in a cold sweat, demanding another machine create square, you know you have a problem. It's not like these confections are the best available, let's say Laduree Parisian macaroons from Paris, Havanna dolce de leche cookies from Buenos Aires, or Jacques Torres fresh squeezed lemonade 70% hand cut chocolates. Now you would be doing yourself a disservice if you didn't indulge yourself in such hand crafted perfections.
The moral of the story? Keep that damn candy bowl away from me, you evil devilish woman.
-Youngest
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