So it is the day after Halloween at approximately 8:30 in the morning and I am in the parking lot of my local Target about to make a full frontal assault on the leftover trick or treat candy.
I am amazed every day-after holiday season that I appear to be the only one who has figured out you can get primo candy for up to 50 percent off. Today, the shelves are bursting with peanut butter cups, Snickers, Kit Kats, Dove chocolates, M&Ms, Twix bars and Milky Ways.
Not three aisles away is the regular candy department with the exact same bags at double the price. The only difference is that all the wrappers on my candy are black, orange and harvest gold. I am color blind in this regard.
I am extremely appreciative that Target now has self checkout because the contents of my shopping buggy has more corn syrup in it than a pecan pie factory.
The ironic thing is that I hardly eat any of this. It’s all for King Daddy. King Daddy has a terrible sweet tooth. Dessert after supper for him is four or five pieces of candy unless I’ve put out molasses cookies, tiramisu or chocolate eclairs. Once a year I bake him a rum cake from a recipe he got from a car dealership (you are so Southern if…) and there’s a pecan pie in his future, too.
But oddly, getting all this candy kind of limits his consumption. I think. Maybe.
So we are into prime discount candy season right now. There’s the day after Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine’s Day and Easter. Then we enter the candy drought in the summertime. Maybe that’s as it should be. In the South you don’t want a bag of chocolate candy in your car for more than five minutes.
King Daddy just got home. He is overjoyed. “I ought to be good at least until Friday.”