The battle is daily. The struggle is real. All these years. So many ways to stumble, and yet by God’s grace and the counsel of wise people, I’ve been able to overcome.
Until cookies.
It almost doesn’t matter what kind. Chocolate. Coconut. Peanut Butter. Oatmeal. Store bought. Home baked. Girl Scout. There’s no escape. They’re everywhere. And I’m helpless.
And not just one or two. I’m talking one or two sleeves out of the box. If there are ten available, that’s how many I want, and how many I consume. Fresh out of the oven, or stale out of the tin. I am woefully inadequate to their charms.
I’ve beaten drugs. I’m done with booze. I quit smoking. I’m faithful to my wife. I stay reasonably healthy. I take vitamins. I exercise. I read my Bible and pray. I floss, for crying out loud.
But I am no match for the evil Oreo.
Oh, how I’ve tried. “Cutting back.” “Cold turkey.” “Resolutions”. These words are mere child’s play for the mighty wafer with creamy filling.
On the surface, it’s a good relationship. I make jokes about it, we laugh about how delicious they are. We make it a topic on the radio. I profusely thank anyone who takes the time and effort to make me cookies. My Lovely Wife and Life Partner Lois is the chief of culprits in cookie pushers. She makes the very best.
But it’s only a matter of time before I’m staring at mindless TV with wrappers on the floor and crumbs on my tee shirt. It’s indeed an embarrassing display of pathetic futility.
I can’t say no.
But alas, there’s hope. Having recently been diagnosed with a gluten allergy, I thought, “At last! Now I’ll be forced to forgo the addictive confection out of necessity, as it’s become clear I have no real will power of my own.” I can wean off the sugar high, and replace it with some bland, low soy replacement.
I can best this enemy yet!
But then, just as I was about to take my dependency victory lap. I made another discovery.
Benadryl.