Can you believe it? Somehow I feel like I got ripped off. Like I should go out and eat a pound of gummy bears to make up for lost time.
In all seriousness, it doesn't matter if it's true or not and here's why: I knew this one guy who, as a kid, was super obsessive about candy. He would endlessly stroke the coins in his pocket while imagining the bounty of artificially flavored goodies he was going to hoarde after school. He'd devise a list of sweets in his head, then revise that list throughout the day, working and reworking the math so that he could get the most candies for his quarters. Now and Laters. Lemonheads. Jolly Ranchers. You know, all the cheap ones that are right by the cash register.
Did eat them? Suck them until his tongue was unnatural shades of yellow or purple or blue?
He'd collect them and just sort of love their power from an odd distance. Seriously.
Anyway, so this guy grew up to be an alcoholic and drug addict, the kind that goes to 12 step meetings. Moral of the story? Just because the sugar doesn't make the little ones hyper, you still can't let your kids get all weird on candy because they'll later obsess on booze and heroin and end up in 12 step meetings drinking shit coffee with powdered creamer and making friends with some small business owner named Ray.
Have an obsessive weekend!