Wendy Richards

As Posted in Sixty and Me

You know what I’m talking about. You walk into an office and there, on the receptionist’s desk, sits that innocent bowl of candy tempting you. Not one of those bowls with unwrapped morsels and a scoop. I won’t touch them. Who knows what grubby little fingers have been in there?

No, these are the last of the bagged candies, dumped unceremoniously into the bowl before they become stale and inedible.

The Bad Habits – We All Have Them

I don’t consider myself an addictive personality. I quit smoking long ago and won’t be starting up again in this lifetime. I’d rather have another baby than go through the agony of an encore performance of cigarette withdrawal.

I don’t do drugs since my love of wine is quite enough for me to handle. But tempting me with candy is another matter. My friends and family somehow manage to keep their hands to themselves, but I can’t resist those little bowls of free tidbits.

So here I am waiting patiently in my vet’s office for her to process my payment. And there’s the bowl. In it I see a new candy. It is wrapped in gold and looks so wrinkled that maybe someone has opened it, rejected it and rewrapped the thing.

It has me curious enough that, when no one is looking, I pick it up and conceal it in my hand for later inspection. I don’t want anyone to think I’m going to eat something someone else has perhaps smelled, licked, and put back.

Back in the car, I inspect my bootie. This is new. Maybe it’s supposed to look all wrinkly. I open it up to reveal a rather tempting little morsel. Chocolate covered buttercrunch sprinkled with crushed nuts. Hmmmm. Doesn’t look like it’s been licked. What the heck; I pop it in my mouth.

What on Earth?

I am undone! The angels are singing! This is beyond anything my taste buds have ever experienced. I think I’ve discovered chocolate covered heroin. No words can describe this heaven on earth!

Suppressing a groan, I immediately place the wrapper in my pocket for later inspection so I can find out who is the maker of this ecstasy.

Once home, I retrieve the wrapper and search the Internet. There it is! Writing it down, I’m off to Walmart to buy some. But alas, they don’t have it. I drive to Superstore and then on to Shopper’s Drug Mart. No luck. I pull out my iPhone and search.

London Drugs has it and it is within driving distance.

Parking the car, I descend on the store at a pace I’m hoping doesn’t look suspicious. Standing in front of shelves and shelves of candy, I search in desperation. Success! There it is. And wouldn’t you know it; the large container is on sale! They must have known I was coming.

All Mine!

As my mother has confessed to me on numerous occasions, once the candy box is open, the contents are fair game and will be consumed without mercy. Her addiction is peanut brittle and she understands.

Carrying my newly found pot of gold up to my home office, I don’t tell my husband what I have. I have no intention of sharing. Removing the freshness top, I take my first candy.

I can’t stop. I now understand addiction!

I force myself to make them last three days until they are all gone. For now, I will resist purchasing more as I know what the outcome will be.

Did I forget to tell you what my obsession is? Brown & Haley Almond Roca. I think I’ll buy stock in the company.