Just Desserts

I bought $10 worth of non-chocolate candy in preparation for Saturday's homecoming parade. The boss had suggested  that we administrators march in the parade as a group and I had so much fun flinging candy at children last year (and watching them duck-and-cover) that I stocked up with five pounds of individually-wrapped sugar-based ammunition.

When I bought the candy the tiny angel on my right shoulder and the tiny devil on my left shoulder were practically pulling each other's hair.

"Don't get this stuff--get chocolate! Everyone knows chocolate is the only good kind of parade candy!" the little devil shouted at me.

"But if you get the chocolate, and there's any left over, you'll want to eat it yourself so it won't be wasted. Also you love Reese's Cups beyond reason and you'll have the uncontrollable urge to tear the wrappings off of fun-sized cups until you have to kick your way through the knee-high debris," the little angel argued.

"But everyone knows that if you spend more time unwrapping than eating chocolate that means it has negative calories!" the little devil yelled back.

"Really? You really think she needs FIVE POUNDS of Halloween candy?" the angel responded.

Back and forth, back and forth, until I had had it.

"BOTH OF YOU BE QUIET!" I yelled (in my mind), and virtuously placed two bags of bottom-feeder fodder into my shopping cart. (The only Halloween treats more rejectable than bubble gum and Laffy Taffy are individually-boxed packages of raisins. Am I right, people?)

For two weeks the Twizzlers and Jolly Ranchers have been sitting on the kitchen counter, waiting for last Saturday's parade.

And then it was raining Saturday morning, with lightning, and the parade was cancelled.

Stupid little angel. I could be eating Reese's Cups by the handful right now. But come by our house on Halloween. We'll be throwing crappy candy at trick-or-treaters until they duck-and-cover.