I am going to say this in as forthright a way was possible - I have no will power.  If it’s in my house, I will eat it.  At this point, I can still stash my treats (licorice, chocolates etc) without my son finding them - and so the treats are all mine.  I enjoy them.  In a busy day, they are all that keep me going - caffeine and sugar.

This afternoon, my son and I finished lunch and both boys were in their nap.  As I sat back checking my email (between our morning walk and my afternoon chores), I remembered the licorice sitting in our office downstairs.  I kept trying to stop myself from going down the stairs to get that tasty, fresh, luscious, licorice.  I knew, like you wise readers know already, this is a battle lost before it’s even begun.  Finally and predictably I caved - I could already taste it.

Yes, perhaps I should not have this in the house in the first place. I know.  But, I can only get it in Canada and I only go to Canada once every two months, and I was just up there, and it was on sale, and it was soooo fresh - catch my drift?  Yes, a perfectly logical explanation as to why I have awful candy in my house.

At any rate, it was down there, in a Ziploc bag just waiting for me.  Calling me.  Demanding my attention.  So, I ran down (stealthily of course), and picked up the bag.  It was still wonderfully soft feeling, perfectly fresh.  But wait!  Apparently there is another individual in this household with a sweet tooth.  One that can ferret out the pleasant aroma of licorice, even if hidden away in a Ziploc bag,  The same individual known for finding their way into a bag of marshmallows, bold enough to leave a marshmallow waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.  Likely just a secret ally in my battle of the bulge and not one iota of selfishness in his little bones.  I bet you’re thinking this is my child who so bravely absconds with my delectable treats.  You’re not even close.  It’s a certain grey furred feline by the name of Percy.

So, my diet is “safe” for another day.