Cookies are really good. I mean totally yummy and I like them a whole lot. I especially like eating them. For my taste buds this is a wonderful thing. Unfortunately, for the girth of my waist, it is not. In truth, cookies aren’t a bad thing nor is eating them. Eating a lot of them at once is the problem. Well, my problem. I can’t resist the temptation. If I’m offered two, I take both and scarf them down. If I have box of 30, I park myself on the couch with a good tv program, a cold drink, and the open box. Don’t leave your cookies with me because I can’t be trusted with them. If I could resist the temptation of those sweet, round, tasty morsels you could leave your cookies with me. But don’t because I can’t. Well, that’s not entirely true. I have Celiac Disease so, if your cookies contain wheat gluten, then I can’t eat them. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. Because I would if I could.
I kind of have the same issue with LuLaRoe. I can’t resist it. Buttery soft leggings. Caroline Cardigans that are so very flattering. Pockets (!!) in the Jessie Dress. And in the Nicole Dress (!!). Casually professional, yet simply comfortable. I see these tempting articles of clothing and I can’t resist them. Just one, I think. One little pair of leggings because that can’t hurt my budget. And then I see something else. Something like the perfect Christy T to wear with those leggings. And I can’t resist that either. That lovely Christy T clicks its way right into my shopping cart. Can’t have one without the other. Obviously, I come to my senses, empty 3/4 of my shopping cart, and save the mortgage payment.
We all have something, don’t we? Years ago there was a Lays potato chip ad with the tag line, “Nobody can eat just one.” And they were right. Who eats just one potato chip? Or one M&M? Or one peanut? No one, that’s who. Not a single person. Well, except my dad – he had a theory about one piece of chocolate filling your whole mouth and satisfying the craving. I wrote off that theory long before he finished explaining it. He just didn’t understand the mysteries of chocolate.
It makes wonder if he had seen Netflix would he ever have binge watched a show? Most of us do that these days. We have a block of time (or just an hour) and we sit down (or lie down) on the couch with the remote in our hands, tune in to Netflix and . . . begin. By the time we finish it’s two days later, our eyes are red-rimmed, our hair is matted, and we haven’t ingested anything except diet soda, pizza, and chocolate the entire time. But we’ve managed to visually consume 3 series and a movie.
What is your cookie? What is your LuLaRoe or Netflix? Or is it shoes and potato chips? Shoes were my mom’s obsession. Still would be if Alzheimer’s hadn’t wrestled the desire from her memory. I find myself gazing in shoe store windows at styles my mom would like when I’m in a mall. I always know which ones she would try one versus which ones she would take home.
I think that’s the thing that makes what we can’t resist so special to us. We know it when we see it. We crave the texture, the aroma, the deep-seated feeling of comfort that it brings. We feel anchored within ourselves because that thing we can’t resist seems to represent something within our inner core. It nearly makes us whole. But what do we do with that? We can continually seek it, trying to plaster over any emptiness we feel. Or we can recognize that the fulfillment is fleeting — and simply enjoy it for that magical moment when we push the play button, bite into the chocolate, or open the package with our goodies. And when that brief, golden moment has passed, we return to the real life around us again, perhaps less than glowing, but definitely appreciated.
Now, where’s the remote, my popcorn, and Diet 7Up? Oh, and my laptop!