Relative Something

Just three days to go until the great trick-or-treat traditions burst forth on countless doorsteps. In the twelve years we’ve been here, only one time did someone show up at our door. It was a neighboring couple and their young son from a mile or two down the road. After that, silence for all the years since.

This is just fine with me. It’s a good event for kids, but there aren’t many kids I know about in the surrounding vicinity. It would be an extra burden on my sugar addiction to have an excess of candy in the house for possible giveaway. I have not been very diligent about managing my daily sugar intake lately.

Just a few repetitions of allowing myself to cheat triggers the return of cravings that are so much easier to succumb to than exterminate. I am my own worst enemy.

Since we don’t keep a lot of candy in the house, my brain simply points me to alternative carbs that I love dearly and will happily binge in excess. The healthy choice of snacking on unsalted nuts, which I am also a fan of eating, interestingly becomes less satisfying when my good practices lapse.

Bagel chips have a much greater allure to my addicted brain.

My mischievous mind lets me think I’m getting away with a few days of consuming an increased percentage of unhealthy sweetness until an expanding paunch around my middle soon exposes the inevitable outcome. When my mirror reveals the return of a growing belly, my awareness of the relentless craving comes back into focus.

Thankfully, I don’t fool myself indefinitely.

If we somehow do get surprised by a costumed trick-or-treater Thursday night, I have a half-bag of bagel chips left that I’d happily share.

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