Addicted

The thing about Wheat Thins is that as soon as I see them I get a primal urge to eat the whole box before anyone else has even noticed their presence. I grab the box and smuggle it to a safe place, far from the eyes of my garburator brother. And then I eat. And I will not stop until I am disturbed, or realize that I have become a wheat-crazed animal that needs to be stopped and fast.
When I look at the back of the box and see that I can eat thirteen whole crackers and it wont even be 100 calories, it makes me smile. Because that means I can eat a little more than thirteen crackers and I will only be eating a total of 100 calories and that is pretty damn good for something as tasty as these heavenly crackers. And after these thirteen crackers I decide that it would be much better to just eat another thirteen instead of something horribly unhealthy such as a donut or an equally carb-and-fat-filled delight. And it is, after all, just another hundred calories. I can do this, I think.
And then I usually stop. After a reasonable 26 crackers. And I sit there being proud that I am satisfied and I didn't have to resort to a cookie. Or potato chips. I begin to do something else, usually something very un-fun, such as homework. And I sit there thinking about math and how I should eat another wheat thin. Just one. Because what harm would that do? None. That is correct.
And then I eat three Wheat Thins. Because it is hardly worth it to get wheat stuck in your teeth for an hour just to eat one measly cracker. But three isn't bad, really. There aren't even 100 calories in thirteen!
And this is why my mother rolls her eyes when I ask ever so nicely for my precious crackers. Because I do it every time. No matter how hard I try.
Ladies and gentlemen, I am addicted to Wheat Thins.