Damn You, Halloween Candy
That’s right, damn you.
Between the trunk-or-treat at church and the impromptu Trick-or-Treat Street at the high school before Halloween, plus the regular trick-or-treating on Mountain Avenue and another trunk-or-treat Halloween night, we have a shit-load of candy. Surprisingly (and unfortunately), it’s all pretty good, too.
After a week of two separate huge bowls of candy, one belonging to each kid, I had to have a new plan. The two gigantic bowls were staring at me constantly, just asking to be emptied – through my tummy – and I have weird sores all over my body to prove it.
This weeks step: segregate the candy.
Candy bars/M&M’s/Whoppers + sour patch kids in one container, with a lid, on top of the fridge. Hubby and I are making our way through this container.
Smarties, dumdum suckers, and sweet tarts in a jar with a lid on the counter with a sign that says, “EARN – Do chores without being asked.” A single piece has yet to leave this jar.
Bottle caps, nerds, and swedish fish in a pint jar on the top shelf of the cabinet just for me, PMS ready.
One bowl of all the other random sugar still sitting on the counter staring at me. I can’t bring myself to throw it away yet and I have no where to give it away (like an office) – nor do want to give it away. It’s crap and we shouldn’t have it in the first place. I figure the longer it sits there not being eaten the closer I’ll be to just throwing it away.
Why do we hand out candy again?