I never used to be much of a chocolate eater, I tell myself. I used to have it on occasion, could count years between having actual chocolate bars. A piece of cake would be a treat, or a pudding (spotted dick and custard, obviously).
Now, nary a day goes by when I don’t eat a reasonable portion of some ’empty calorie’ foodstuff (although surely chocolate’s got calcium in it, at least?!).
I have turned into the woman with zero willpower when it comes to sugar. Evening time arrives and, after the often horrifically traumatic event of ‘bedtime’ with a toddler and a baby (should be renamed ‘mental torture time’), I find myself wearily preparing dinner (ok, mostly preparing dinner, as my partner may have the occasional hand in this – in fact, he’s just reminded me of my nightly ‘sofa-curfew’, whereby I seem unable to leave the sofa to make my way to the kitchen after 8pm) and then the ‘sugar itch’ arrives.
This isn’t a good thing in a house full of chocolate, post-Easter. Mini eggs, huge chunky chocolate eggs, those irresistible chocolate bunnies…
Sitting here eating my latest batch of mini eggs, I have arrived at the following conclusions:
1. I developed the habit in pregnancy.
2. I need the energy, and have low blood sugar at the end of a busy day. By busy, I mean **BUSY**. Is it possible to highlight that word any further?!
3. I just can’t be arsed to have any willpower anymore.
So there it is, my confession of the day. I’m addicted to post-‘bedtime’ sugar.