Trick or Too Many Treats

Wives want to control what we husbands eat because they can’t consume everything like we do.

Maybe I’m making a harsh generalization. That’s only because I can’t be harsh with my wife in person. Because she’s right about my bad eating habits.

I’ve loved candy, cookies and sweet goodies since the doctor cut my umbilical cord and I was able to enjoy my nourishment with the use of my taste buds. Being older and more mature is no reason to stop loving sugary goodness.

At Halloween time, my sweet tooth only grows bigger . . . and scarier. I’m learning I have to push my son, who’s now 10, in a different direction. My wife wants him to be healthier. And less scary.

The mounds of Halloween candy in stores are no help. Each bag is a cornucopia of all the candy greats like Milky Way, Nerds, Twix, Skittles, Tootsie Rolls, Smarties and M&Ms. I can’t pass that up.

But my wife is furious if she sees the stuff in the house.

So I make sure she doesn’t see it. I have a few hiding spots she still hasn’t discovered. My belly is the best place to conceal the goodies. My son helps polish it off before we get out of the store parking lot.

With large amounts of candy consumption come large amounts of guilt. But not for me. I can also ignore temporary stomach pain or nausea, sugar rushes and sugar crashes. In no time I’m ready for more of that wonderful, beautiful candy.

“How can you not have any more pumpkin candies?” I ask a store worker. “It’s October.”

Places are already gearing up for Christmas. I pick up a few boxes of Santa Claus chocolates and call it a day.

Even if I’m picking up a few random items like milk or toilet paper, I find my way to the sweets.

“Wow, wax lips!”

I never really understood wax lips. It’s not really candy, more like chewing on a mouthful of birthday candles. Nevertheless, I can’t even pass those up. It takes weeks to get that wax off my teeth. It doesn’t bother me.

Before I know it, I have sweet treats in hiding spots all over the house, my son and I are bouncing off the walls and my wife is running for her life, throwing obstacles in our way, locking us out of rooms. We bang and scratch at the doors, try to get in. My wife is screaming, crying.

This is what my son and I call fun.

I figure my son has plenty of time to learn to eat healthy. For now he has to learn to be a kid. It’s when I discover my wife has found the sweets and begun a steady candy diet of her own that I begin to worry. She’s worked so hard to eat healthy, and I’ve sabotaged her efforts by bringing the enemy into the house.

I get rid of all the sweets, even the Halloween fruit snacks, which we should be able to keep because of the fruit content, and I promote healthier eating.

I’ve since found out that my wife is smuggling candy into the house. I’ve uncovered several of her hiding spots, including her magazines where she uses strips of candy dots as bookmarks. Why would I go near her People magazine? It’s not like I care about how celebrities are dressing up for Halloween. Though some of their costumes are kind of cool.

Whenever I find candy in the house, I bring it straight to the trashcan out back. If my wife comes after me, I sacrifice my own body and eat the treats so she can’t.

Halloween is finally here. And there’s no candy in the house. Except for the stash I have for trick-or-treaters in my super-duper secret hiding spot. My wife and son have cleaned up their acts. They haven’t been hiding sweets or even craving them. All that candy actually made them sick of it.

I go for the hidden treats to prepare for all those little ghouls and goblins coming for . . .

The candy is missing!

I guess I taste-tested one too many pieces. Off to the store I go.

-October 2013