Extremely Dangerous and Incredibly Unstable

(If you haven't seen the movie Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close yet, you really, really should.)

I cannot find any chocolate stashed anywhere. ANYWHERE. I have looked frantically in all of my usual hidey spots, and I feel like if someone could see me, they would recognize the feral look of a crack whore, searching the cracks and crevices for just one more tiny rock of happiness. If anyone sees CPS at my house, that's why. The longer I go without, the more I fear for my family's safety as well as my own personal sanity (which is always negligible, even on a good day).

When I was young, whenever we had a bag of Hershey's miniatures, my dad automatically commandeered all of the Special Dark ones. Probably the reason to this day I don't like Mr. Goodbar or Krackle, having to pretend to enjoy their second-class flavor as I jealously craved the few metallic gold wrappers of the dark chocolate just out of my reach. I grew up thinking it was so mean for him to take the good ones, but as a parent myself, I now understand and even forgive, for now I too possess the power of infinite veto over who gets what in the house. I've discovered that growing children are no different than locusts, and no matter how regularly I fill the pantry with cookies, crackers, chips, and fruit snacks, once my three boys and/or their posses arrive, it's soon all picked over and obliterated not unlike the devastation of a farmer's crop. I remember as girls, we could share a bag of ramen, one box of Mac & Cheese would feed four of us, and our favorite lunch treat in college was splitting a bag of Crazy Bread from Little Caesar's. Boys, on the other hand, fueled by pure testosterone and Mountain Dew, can eat. And eat. And eat. I can buy healthy and I can buy crap, and the result is always the same: My kids whip through it all like they've been on a deserted island starving for days (I promise, they have not). So I learned long ago to take a page out of my dad's book and keep snacks close by, but keep my personal chocolate stash much, much closer. 

This morning I discovered I'd relapsed into an Ambien-induced amnesia. For the most part, I've been able to squelch my midnight pigfests and avoid that morning walk of shame through the Hostess wrappers, potato chip bags, and various crumbs in the bed. Too many times I would have something good saved - pie, cake, candy - that would be unable to be properly savored once devoured in a middle of the night binge. I'd have no memory of either the act or the taste, and it would, in my mind, be a complete waste. I've gotten into the habit of keeping something by the bed that I won't be embarrassed to have binged on during the night, like an apple or granola bar. Unfortunately, the line between hiding my candy from my kids but still being able to prevent my amnesiac nighttime wandering got a bit blurry last night. I decided to eat my Reese's Peanut Butter Big Cup last night while reading.

(Note: Normally I wouldn't advocate eating any candy not in its regular form. For example, Hershey's with Almonds is fantastic. Hershey's with Almonds King Size - not so much. Once the candy's enlarged or shrunk, the ratio of chocolate to other ingredients gets out of whack. But.....The Reese's Big Cup is an exception to the rule. It not only maintains the proportion, but a regular Reese's pack of 2 leaves you wanting at least 3, a King Size pack of 4 leaves you feeling ill, but the Big Cups are a perfect blend of big bites of everything that makes an RPBC perfect.)

Back to me. I decided I wasn't quite ready to indulge yet, so I figured I'd save it for today, forgetting about my own midnight hunting alter ego, Ambien Me. I woke this morning to an empty wrapper, and though I desperately searched whatever corners of my mind I could (as well as under my pillow and around the bed), I had no memory of eating it. It was just....gone.

So now I search the house, trying to get back SOME semblance of that chocolate rush I must've had but can't recall, and as I become more cookoo for cocoa, I find the desire for chocolate is almost overwhelming my desire to never leave the house. I can only imagine how dangerous I would be on the road in this state, but the danger to those closest to me at home might be far greater. Only time will tell, but if you live nearby, you might want to hide really, really hard.