How Swede It Is

Jason and I do the fun stuff that is expected of couples, and we also do the mundane stuff.  With him though, even the mundane stuff is pretty enjoyable.  So when I say that we spent our Saturday night running errands, it's not as bad as it sounds.  Okay, maybe it is, but I'm happy with it.

One of our stops was at a particular wholesale warehouse where you have to be a member to shop.  Jason has a membership, which I can join him for a shot at big savings.  The problem with wholesale warehouses though is that the purchases tend to either be really practical and responsible, or the purchase is something really ridiculous and unnecessary.

After finding what we needed, we continued to browse the store (it IS our Saturday night, after all).  As we hit the candy aisle, Jason spotted a magnificent sight: a 3.5 pound bag of Swedish Fish.  I have an incredible weakness for gummy candies, with Dots and Swedish Fish being my top choices.  I craved them (even more than usual) when I was pregnant and was always in fear of being at home and suddenly craving a certain candy and not having it.  My solution was to buy a bunch of gummy candy and then squirrel it away for whenever I would need it.  

Yes, I said "need."

I really didn't act on the craving too much though.  This became apparent to me when my son was several months old, and I happened upon a stockpile of various gummy candies, all still sealed.  I grabbed a box of Dots, planning to have a few.  Soon, I ate the whole thing.  At first I was horrified at my lack of self-control, but then I reminded myself that I had that candy for months before eating it.  That actually demonstrates incredible willpower.  I should be proud.

Back to the Swedish Fish.  The price was so low that it would basically be a bad money decision to not make the purchase (don't tell me otherwise, I am already convinced).  We grabbed a bag, paid for our items, and tossed everything in the trunk.  We finished our errands and went home, bringing everything inside.  The bag of Swedish Fish remained sealed.

Sunday morning, the bag was still sitting on the table.  It did nothing to tempt me.  It was still sealed, I was fine.  In the afternoon, I finally tore it open for us to have "a few."  After several "a fews," I sealed the bag back up and put it in the pantry.  Out of sight, out of mind.  Right?

I said goodbye to my boyfriend on Monday morning.  He went to work, and then I went to work.  I came home for lunch and went in the pantry to get some food for the squirrels.  While I was in there, I noticed the Swedish Fish, which I hadn't thought about all day.  Now I couldn't stop thinking about them.  I fed the squirrels, ate some lunch, and then I grabbed a few Swedish Fish.  I was smart though; I just took out a few, sealed the bag, and put it away.

I did that a few times though.

Then I grabbed a handful to put in a Ziploc bag so I could take it back to work for an afternoon snack.

I ate them all before I was even halfway back to work.

After work, I picked up my 4 year old son.  When we got home, he immediately ran to the bowl of chocolates on the table and asked if he could have some chocolate.  "No, you can't have any candy before dinner.  You need to eat something good first."  After I got him settled with some food, I found myself in the pantry, going after the Swedish Fish.  It's a classic case of do as I say, not as I do.

Then I thought about the pace at which I was consuming the Swedish Fish.  Jason would be back by the end of the week, and this bag could have a ridiculous dent in it, if not be completely gone.  I do not want to explain how a 3.5 pound bag of candy has disappeared since he was last here.  The bag seems endless, but eventually I'm going to look inside and be like, oh, crap.

Some of the more cunning (sneaky?) people might say, just buy a new bag to replace it.  But I don't have a membership to the warehouse.  I'd have to hang outside the front door, like teenagers at a convenience store hoping to find someone to buy them beer.  How much money do you have to slip someone to buy you candy?  I'd be too nervous.  I would probably just scream, "ABORT!" and run away.

Those darn warehouse stores, they sure can get you.  I should probably avoid scenarios like this in the future and just buy normal-sized bags of candy from regular stores, not ones that weigh half as much as my son did when he was born.  

But I'm sure I won't.