Curse those crafty little elves

I am in so much trouble.

Like serious, intervention-required, may-never-wear-anything-but-a-muu-muu-again trouble.

Look what those damn little elves have created:


No, they have not partnered with the devil that is the girl scout cookies.


Available ALL. YEAR. LONG in the store.


It's bad enough that I buy them in the spring, hide them from the kids, and eat myself sick on them every year.

But now to have unfettered access to them anytime I want?

It's like selling meth at the corner gas station. Everything you need in one stop!

Don't they realize there are people like me out there, with no self control whatsoever? People on the verge of food suicide at all times of the day and night?

I am so dead.

Just look what happened on the ride home:


I think it's pretty safe to say that the evidence will likely be gone before dinner.