I still don't understand myself sometimes.

Here's a case in point.

I usually fill the children's Easter baskets with random grocery-store novelties as well as candy -- things like mini boxes of Froot Loops, tiny cans of pineapple juice, that sort of thing.  (Since I am one of those never-buy-neon-cereal nasties, the mini Froot Loops are always a bigger hit than the chocolate eggs.  Go figure.)  This year I bought a box of "100 Calorie Packs" of mini fudge-coated shortbread cookies to add to their baskets, only because I thought the tiny packages of tiny cookies would fit nicely into the basket.

When I was up in my locked bedroom packing the three Easter baskets on Holy Saturday I discovered there were five cookie packs in the box.  Two extra.  I had been happily nibbling on jelly beans and Rolos and mini peanut butter cups -- one doesn't get to fill Easter baskets every day -- and the cookies looked tasty, so I tore into one of the bags and popped a couple of them into my mouth.

Huh.  They were okay, I guess, but not as good as I thought they might be.  (This happens to me all the time with packaged cookies now.)  I ate a couple more with decreasing enthusiasm and then tossed the rest of the bag, plus the last unopened bag, onto my dresser, where I forgot about them.

Until the next morning.  I was heading out of the bathroom from my shower, passed the dresser, saw the cookies, and thought:  "Hey, cookies!  I could have one."

Then I remembered that they were only so-so cookies, and I was going to have breakfast in a few minutes, so I passed them by.  "Save them for later," I thought.

The same thing happened when I walked through the bedroom later that day.  And then the next day.  And the next.  I would see the cookies.  I would think, "Hey, cookies!  I could have some."  Occasionally I would reach my hand out to take one.  And then I would think, "Well, they aren't very good."  

At some point, you would think I would throw the cookies away.  

Eventually I threw away the bag that had already been opened, because of course they were going to be stale by now.  But you know what?  The last, unopened bag is still sitting on my dresser.  I am still walking past it every morning and thinking, "Huh, cookies!  I'll have them, one of these days when they look good to me."

Now what's up with that?  Am I just reluctant to "waste" these crappy little cookies by throwing them in the trash?  At the same time too greedy to just give them to the kids (not very good, but mine, my precioussssss cookies....)?  Or am I taunting myself on purpose to see how long I can last? 

Whatever the reason, it's getting pretty ridiculous.

Comments

[Tabitha]

I would SO do the same thing. With me, it's about waste--I paid for those calories--throwing them away is wasteful, nearly a sin. I'm trying to teach myself that eating too much and eating crap that I don't even like is wasteful too, and nearly a sin...

[Kathy]

For me it's about feeling secure. That little bag of cookies is there so when I feel the overwhelming urge to eat something sweet I can grab the cookies. If I threw them out what would happen when I fly into my emotional eating panic mode? The cookies would be gone and I would be upset. Wow, when I write out my thoughts like this it sounds absolutely crazy! I have some work to do.

[Hailey]

Great post! So true. I’m learning that there is a difference between being hard on myself and being *tough* with myself...