Addiction to candy corn is severe

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By Lee Scott

Yesterday, my husband asked me if I was going out and, if so, could I please pick up a few things at the drug store.

“No!” I yelled. “I cannot go in there!”

“Why not?” he asked.

“You know perfectly well,” I replied. “Candy corn is being sold now!”

I have no self-control when it comes to candy corn. I can smell it when I first walk in the door. The entire aisle may be filled with other Halloween candy, like Hershey’s candy bars and Kit-Kat bars. It doesn’t matter.  It is the Brach’s Candy Corn that I desire.  

For the purists like me, we buy only the traditional candy corn. We are not fooled by imitators.  

The original candy corn was developed over 130 years and has three colors. It has a large yellow bottom, a smaller orange middle and then is topped with a white tip. It is said the product is meant to mimic actual kernels of corn.  

There is also a correct way to eat them: one color at a time with the white going first, although, technically, this practice is not dictated by the makers of the product. 

I was explaining to some of the ladies at my Book Club about the ingredients contained in candy corn. There are two main ingredients: sugar and corn syrup. Oh yes, there are other ingredients, but do not fool yourself. This is candy. There are no vitamins listed on the package and there are 140 calories per 19 pieces. 

That is about a handful for me, which means if I go throughout the day and just eat a couple of handfuls, I will have eaten the caloric equivalent of a complete dinner.  

This is why I cannot buy a package of candy corn. I am much better off standing there at the nail salon counter shoving small handfuls in my mouth before the manicurist takes me.

Later, my husband returned from the drug store. He had also picked up some other items we needed and so while I was unpacking, I noticed a familiar smell. Sure enough, there in the bottom of a bag was an 18.5-ounce bag of Brach’s Candy Corn.

“Candy, little girl!” my spouse said in his scariest Halloween voice. 

“No,” I screamed like one of those victims in a horror movie. “Hide them!” Which he did.

Of course, it did not take me long to find the goods. The bag was hidden behind the soups and pastas. But Halloween comes only once a year and so I allowed myself to succumb to my annual Brach’s Candy Corn binge.   

Needless to say, there was no dinner that night.