Just two days until all those ghosts and goblins and Hannah Montanas come streaming to my door.
And so it starts.
'Tis the season to test the will. I know that only too well as I try my hardest to suppress the chocolate cravings that always seem to last till it's time to make those remorseful New Year's resolutions.
It's not easy. In fact, there have been moments when I can actually hear the candy calling — just like the sultry, singing Sirens in Homer's Odyssey that enticed sailors into wrecking their ships on the rocks.
It's been a bit of a challenge steering my own ship these past days.
I put my holiday anti-weight-gain rule aside and purchased my Halloween candy two weeks early. My excuse: the supermarket offered a "buy one-get one" deal, and I had a dollar-off coupon to boot.
Who can resist, especially in this economy?
I stashed the candy in the spare fridge in the garage. "Out of sight, out of mind," I figured.
Then I discovered that the man of the house had been hearing the candy voices too and had taken to gobbling up the peanut butter cups. He broke my hands-off directive and tore open the fun-size bag in a way he thought no one would detect.
He confessed to that and to covering up his offense by crumpling the wrappers into tiny balls and burying them deep in the trash where he figured no one would see them.
Being the enabler I am, I caved. Tasted a sample . . . or two. Maybe it was three.
But I stopped there.
In past years, I was resourceful enough to forgo the chocolate at Halloween. I bought stuff I didn't particularly like — Sweet Tarts, red hot fireballs and the Pop Rocks that set off an urban legend in the '80s. Gullible people believed their stomachs would explode if they chased the candy with a swig of soda.
Last week I was doing some Internet searching (that I assure you was completely relevant) when up on my screen popped the "before'' pictures of Octomom.
Made me think of those Pop Rocks.
The Web site also included some "after'' pictures, and the Octomom Halloween costumes that are the current rage.
It seems that nine months after birthing eight babies, Octomom has slimmed down to a svelte 125 pounds.
No surgery, Octomom says. Just three midnight workout sessions a week at the gym and a diet of five small protein-filled meals a day with things like sushi and baby food.
Unfortunately this completely trashes my theory that it's the birth of the third child that throws you over the edge, to the point of no return, where there's no chance of ever seeing pre-pregnancy weight again.
The thing is, I kind of like my theory. It's worked for me so far. I can't relate to Octomom's world.
My kids are mostly grown now, so we're actually looking forward to emptying our nest. Because midnight is way past my bedtime, I typically get to the gym when the sun's still shining. There's no way I'm eating baby food and I have no hankering for sushi.
I'm thinking chocolate.
'Tis the season, after all.
Michele Miller can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org or at (727) 869-6251.