I believe confession is good for the soul. However, I personally
prefer to hide the terrible things I’ve done. But for the sake of the blog it’s time to ‘fess up.
…It was a cold windy miserable day in my little teenage world. In other words *I was doing math.* The most terrible, awful, traumatizing subject in the whole entire world (in my opinion). Anyway. I don’t need to tell you all the embarrassing details like how much I cried over math, etc. etc. Ahem.
On this particular day I had just about enough when I decided I needed a snack to ease the math pain. So I tromped upstairs and lo and behold a halo of gold sat on the counter!
A freshly baked pan of the most decadent looking rice krispy treats ever made. My baby sister was such a doll! (To this day she makes the most amazing rice krispy treats ever.)
And so (here we are getting to the confession part…) I ate them. And I don’t mean I ate a few bars. Oh no. I picked the whole dang 9X13 piece chunk up and started chomping away. Golly was that satisfying.
And then I felt a little guilty. Ummmm. What was I going to tell little Peewee??? Instead of telling her what I did, I sorta slunk back down to my room and finished my math quietly.
And then the shriek.
“What happened to all the rice krispy treats???!!!! Beth??!!!! Did you eat them??!!!”
Not sure if I’m honored or not that she thought of me at that moment.
Anyhow, eventually she forgave me. And now you know my dirty little secret. *I have no self control when it comes to sugar.*
Which is truly why I try to make healthy treats because I know myself. If I make a batch of, well, say, rice krispy bars, my hubby has no chance of ever seeing one. And the little piggy in me gleefully smiles and rubs my hands together.
Evil. Pure evil.