The Siren Call of Girl Scout Cookies and Easter Candy
In a cruel twist, the day after I received my directionally-positive cholesterol news, the 9 boxes of girls scout cookies we ordered arrived.
Yes, nine. Yes, that’s embarrassing (though in my defense, we like to support the neighborhood girls. And yes, I realize we could have given them the money and donated the cookies. Somehow, though, that’s not what happened.)
Sadly for my lo-co goal, only 1 was a box of “Tagalongs” – the peanut butter cookies I despise. All the rest were Thin Mints and Samoas – which to me are the very definition of irresistible. Fortunately, our 16 year old son also has a weakness for Thin Mints and Samoas.
Though I have to admit that I hid a box. Of each.
Shameful, I know.
Matters worsened when, several boxes of Girl Scout cookies later, I was shopping my local CVS to see if a fish oil brand guaranteed not to contain mercury actually exists (upcoming post on this topic). On my way to ask a pharmacist, I saw it — the only junk food more irresistible to me than Phish Food and Mallomars and Girl Scout Cookies.
Russell Stover Chocolate Marshmallow Easter Eggs.
These are such a huge weakness that my sister in North Carolina and I actually stockpile and mail these to each other. (Kathy, we have to stop that!)
So there I was, standing in the middle of CVS with a bottle of fish oil pills that might or might not contain mercury – but will purportedly lower my cholesterol — in one hand. And in the other? Somehow 3 chocolate marshmallow eggs had leapt into my hand.
Actually, this is progress. Usually, I buy at least 6 of those marshmallow eggs per drug store visit. I got out of there with just 3, and promptly ate all of them on the drive home.
Clearly, I need to stay out of CVS until May, and tell my son where the last box of Thin Mints (the Samoas are gone) is hidden.
Or not. My next cholesterol test isn’t for 6 months. If I just exercise every day, surely that will counteract…
Oh, fine. I’ll go grab those cookies right now and hand them over to my son.