Dear Mr. Fudge Brownie Mix:

I bought you on sale one weekend because I just couldn't resist. Well, months later, you still remain on my pantry shelf waiting to be cooked into a warm fudge-like delicacy. I had dreams for you. I envisioned you warm under a scoop of melting vanilla ice cream, I craved a bite of you topped with peanut butter, I even hoped to share late nights with you after the kids got tucked in for bed.

Then, I'm not sure how it happened, but I began to think differently about our relationship. I still desire your sweet taste, but I'm not giving into the temptation. You see, Mr. Fudge Brownie Mix, you have a power over me. I can't just have one itty bitty square of your goodness, it's not possible. As you cool off in a pan, you scream at me, you lure me into temptations, and lasso me into your control.

I'm taking a stand against you. I'm not going to let you take advantage of me any longer. You laugh at me when I look at myself in a mirror. You ridicule my courage. And, quite frankly, you make me feel like poo.

Sincerely,
Erin (The skinny one on the inside...)