The crush of the candy on the weekend of the labor

Well we are just worn out from our celebration of the labor.

Or as I will refer to it from now on, the weekend that I became a wee bit obsessed with Candy Crush. For those of you who don’t know what it is, Candy Crush is basically like opening a bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos and telling yourself you’ll only eat four or five. Theoretically, that’s possible. But the reality is you’ll wake up the next morning with nothing but an empty bag, cheese residue on your fingers, and regret.

For many months I’ve heard various friends lament about Candy Crush. I’ve seen people on Facebook requesting lives and, I’ll be honest, I’ve been a little smug. I was smarter than to get caught up in some silliness over a game. I’m engaged in real life and not moving striped candies around a game board.

But that all changed Friday night.

Call it curiosity or call it boredom, but I caved. We went to dinner with Mimi and Bops and I ate possibly the best shrimp I’ve ever had. They were stuffed with two different kinds of olives and prosciutto. That’s really all you need to know. And when I returned home I sat on the couch and I had nothing to do. P was watching some hunting show, Caroline was playing on her Kindle and I decided what the heck? How addictive could it be?

I also felt like it might be a good outlet for me during college football season since I tend to have a little nervous energy to burn. Like, for example, on Saturday during the Texas A&M vs. Rice game I got a little worked up and, long story short, I threw Gulley’s dining room table through a plate glass window into her back yard.

Not really. But I could have.

But I will tell you that I popped out of bed at 7:30 a.m. on Saturday which is so unlike me that P was worried something was wrong. And then realizing I was just all hyped up with game day adrenaline began to hum the Aggie War Hymn. I’ve never loved him more.

So you can see why a distraction might be a good thing for me. Candy Crush was the perfect thing for about twenty-four hours because after the A&M game was over I was exhausted. I could no longer handle the emotions of game day and was like a little kid leaving the zoo who screams “I’M NOT TIRED! I’M NOT TIRED!” until they just pass smooth out in the backseat of the car.

And so I sat on the couch and watched the Clemson/Georgia game and the LSU/TCU game while I sorted candies into neat lines and watched them disappear from the screen to find my inner peace. I have a feeling Les Miles was doing the same thing on the sidelines of Cowboy Stadium.

It was all good and fine until I reached level 29 and found myself at the crux of a moral dilemma. Am I actually going to spend money to buy boosters or extra lives or what have you to get to the next level? After all the lectures I’ve given Caroline on how these things are just TRAPS! TRAPS TO GET YOUR MONEY! If a game requires you to buy coins or anything else, it’s a TRAP!

So, yeah. I bought the boosters.

I justified it because it was only ninety-nine cents or whatever. But then I felt dirty. And realized this is how it all starts. One minute you’re playing a seemingly innocent game on your phone and the next day you’ve given your life savings to the Apple store, your eyesight is shot from staring at the brightly colored candies, and your family finds you muttering to yourself, “It’s those dang jellies. IT’S THE JELLIES!”

Just look at Les Miles.

In the words of Beyonce, “I don’t think I’m ready for this jelly”.

Which is why I think I might delete Candy Crush from my phone.

Tomorrow.

Or the next day.