Intervention

The first word I learned how to spell was Candy. C-A-N-D-Y. Ask anyone. The reason for this was because my caretakers were forced to spell the word instead of saying it in my presence. As a result, I started repeating it, and upon putting 2 and 2 together, I realized relatively soon what those five letters meant.

Don't get it wrong, I wasn't spoiled, I said please and thank you- I asked nicely- Always. Otherwise I wouldn't get it. But the rate at which I was asking for it was enough to be concerned. My family calls me Bean. I was a tiny little thing when I was little- Maureen the Jelly Bean. It's since been shortened and stuck, my constantly having a hand full of the sweets who's likeness i was named after might have been unrelated.

Now I'm 24, taking in upwards of three Diet Cokes a day, and always prepared with a treat within reach. My younger relatives fight over seating arrangements because of this. "I call a seat next to Maureen! She's got sweets in her bag!" I can't help myself in the check out at CVS. Dollar Store Candy comes in larger packages for a fraction of the price- I buy ten at a time "Just in case". I haven't yet identified the hypothetical situation in which a mouth full of peanut butter cups would save the day- none the less, I refuse to be unprepared.

The Easter Bunny has forgotten me for the 2nd year in a row. I know, I can't expect much since I haven't lived at home for some time- not to mention I'm building a home with boyfriend [That's big girl stuff]. But a chocolate bunny or a bag of jelly bellys would be nice. I think Dad-- I mean, the bunny-- is trying to tell me something. I've had two root canals and currently have no dental insurance, it might be in my best interest to lay off, but I haven't yet admitted that it's an issue. Not everything that's fun is healthy, but what's the harm in a few cavities? You only live once, and if my simple joys entail Twizzlers and Peeps then Carpe Diem, right? It could be worse.