Hell Hath No Fury...

We tend to eat pretty healthy in our family, but let's be realistic here, we also have our fair share of treats... and once Halloween candy hits the stores, it is usually a candy free-for-all around the Tilson house.  Being pregnant during the month of October again, I have given myself even more leeway in the treats department.  I mean, come on, as any pregnant woman knows, Baby wants what Baby wants, no?  And my babies in utero tend to want sugar.  So what better way to satisfy both Baby and Momma than with a plethora of "fun-size" candy options?

I was absolutely delighted when Chris went to Sam's Club to pick up some Halloween candy today.  Sugar in bulk!  Woohoo!  Awesome husband thing to do, right?  Yeah, well, only if you get the RIGHT kind of candy, my dear.

Let me note that I feel like I am a bit of a candy bar connoisseur, especially around this time of year.  When the beginning of October rolls around, I am usually fantasizing about all kinds of tiny treats... the smooth creaminess of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, the delightful "snap" of a Kit Kat, the wonderful textural surprise of a Snickers, the delicious crunch of a Twix bar, oh and itty bitty bags of M&M's!  They are so cute and small I can eat like 5 of them guilt-free, right?  So imagine my surprise when my oh-so-sweet husband returns with a humongous bag of the worst candy I have ever seen.

Get this.

Butterfingers.
Nestle Crunch Bars.
Baby Ruths.
100 Grand Bars.

Yuck.

I apologize if one of your all-time favorites is on this list, but, in my opinion, this is the absolute worst pick of the lot.  I mean, come on!  Butterfingers get stuck in my teeth.  I have never been much of a fan.  Nestle Crunch Bars are like the boringest candy bar EVER.  They consist of a mediocre slab of chocolate (I prefer Hershey's chocolate over Nestle's, btw) with a few little "crispies" thrown in for texture.  Not my cup of tea.  Oh, and Baby Ruths?  AKA the candy bar that most closely resembles a human turd?  Um, no thanks, I will pass.  The one candy bar out of the mix that I can mildly tolerate is the 100 Grand.  But I can really only handle maybe one or two before I have flashbacks from high school band fundraisers where we sold king-size 100 Grand Bars for weeks on end.  I ate more 100 Grand Bars in 4 years of band than anyone probably should ever eat in a lifetime.  Plus, they are basically just a Crunch Bar beefed up on steriods.  So yeah, talk about sheer and utter disappointment when my super sweet smiling husband walks through the door with a bag filled with these atrocities.  I promptly went into full-on panic mode (hey, I'm allowed, I'm pregnant, hormonal, and basically an emotional mess these days, so just back off, would ya?).  I was immediately pissed off and thinking that he obviously doesn't even KNOW me if he thinks I'm going to eat any of that!... or worse, maybe he does know that I don't like any of those selections and that's why he picked it... so I won't eat it!  He thinks I'm fat!  Now I was super pissed off.  Or maybe he just picked out a bag that he really liked... but, hey, what about me here?  The sugar-binging, chocolate-craving, 27-week pregnant lady that NEEDS. CHOCOLATE. NOW.  What about me?!  

So yeah, any way you spin it, I was pissed.

I have been pouting about it all afternoon.

Seriously.

You know what they say... Hell hath no fury like a pregnant woman missing out on her chocolate-fix.... or something like that anyway.  :)

Side Note: I obviously know I am not fat, I am pregnant... wonderfully, beautifully pregnant...  but this was a completely irrational thought that did briefly run through my mind.  See statement above regarding "hormonal," "emotional," and "mess".