Wednesday, January 7, 2009

My secret shame.

It's time to come clean about a problem that I have. What is this problem, you ask? Hot Tamales. Yes, the cinnamon chewy candies that have absolutely no nutritional value of any type that are often sold at movie theatres or, enticingly, in the checkout lines of your neighborhood grocery store. The grocery store was where they got me today. I just moved into a new apartment, as I said, and my mom said that she would buy me some basic groceries to help me out. Flour, sugar, the essentials. Now, it is important to note that both my mother and I have a major sweet tooth (sweet teeth?), so when we are in the checkout line, despite the fact that we are both fairly slim and try to eat right, we invariably end up each grabbing something from those racks of candy. My candy of choice today was the delicious Hot Tamale. The movie sized box was only one dollar, what a bargain!


I arrived home, my mouth watering at the prospect of some delicious Tamales. I popped a few. Yum. Some more. Delicious. More and more literally starts pouring from my ears, nose and mouth. Not literally, of course, but the problem with these tasty candies is that while they are delicious, they are very hot, especially when consumed in the mass quantities that I enjoy. You would think I would have learned my lesson, after complaining about my mouth being consumed with a massive burning sensation, but yet I continue to eat handfuls at a time. Zach refuses to allow me to buy them in his presence anymore, because it results in him being forced to listen to me whine and complain all night about my mouth. So, Zach-free for a few days, I thought ha! I will buy these delightful candies and enjoy an appropriate amount, and then save them for a later date.

The box is almost half-gone, my mouth is on fire, and I am still eating them. Lesson not learned.

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