So as planned, I told Lady in Red last night that I won’t need more of her Baby Ruth bars.

She didn’t like it.

She said I should have told her earlier so she didn’t have to buy truckloads of them. Well, she didn’t growl or transform into a green She-Hulk, but I could tell from her expression that she wanted her living space clear of anything resembling my face.

I did say sorry, told her what I felt in the smoothest of ways (perhaps even smoother than The Most Interesting Don Equis Man in the World), and she seemed okay at first. But when I told her that I haven’t been eating the candy bars she had given me for quite a while now, and that I have kept them all in the fridge with no clue where to take them, that was when she murmured something in the vicinity of the word asshole.  I paid no mind. I knew what was coming. Well, not really.

You see, now, she wants all her candies back. Yes, all $80 plus dollars worth of Baby Ruth bars.

It would be awesome if I still have these goodies, but no, I threw them all out last Sunday! So, I have a very strong feeling that I’m screwed!

Of course, unless I shell out 80 bucks to buy something I don’t believe in, I’ll be fine. But I am not even considering it. $80 can buy me a whole month’s supply of great natural and local foods! No! I am not doing that! It would be like me donating money to help fund the search for the skeletal remains of Snuffaluffagus. No way!

I think I’ll just ignore her altogether. I mean, what could possibly happen? Will she bind me and force-feed me with M&Ms until I render a fatty and chocolaty liver?

First, I would like to thank all those who posted suggestions here on Tumblr, on Facebook, on Twitter and through my email on how I could possibly put an end to my Lady in Red situation.

I have received many of them. Some might actually work and some are just plain silly. Here are some:

“Tell Lady in Red that you have lost all your teeth in eating all those candies so you can’t chew anymore.”

–      From Rich

“Give all those Ruthies to Pat Robertson.”

–      From Cooper

“Give Lady in Red a hug. Tell her you don’t eat that junk anymore. Then give her a kiss.”

–JeepneyTales

“Say no. Tell her you are full.”

–      Jan

“Melt all the chocolate bars so you can make a giant ball of chocolate and give it to her next Christmas. Recycle.”

–      Susan Joyce

“Hand it over to me, I’ll sell them all.”

–      Chris

“I do think you can tell ‘lady in red’ in a very nice way that you’ve changed your dietary habits and though you absolutely love the gesture, and it makes her the sweetest, kindest, most generous person you know ;-), you won’t be able to eat them in the future. It’ll definitely take some finesse though.

As for the ones you have now…are you opposed to donating them? i know you probably don’t want to disseminate this stuff, but it’s probably still preferable to throwing it out? Maybe?”

–Meret

“Invite you friends and have a food fight. Hurl those candies at each other. At least you won’t feel guilty because you are having “fun” with it.”

–      Ray Blue

“Say 3 nice sentences before you ultimately say no. And then suggest an alternative thing you could do to show appreciation.”

–Hayley

“ Oh man, grow up. Accept and eat ‘em all.”

–      Stanley

“ Physics. Find a wormhole and bury the chocolates there. It will find its way back to Lady in Red so she can give them all to you again. That’s time-space continuum.”

–Einstein.

Great options, aren’t they?

Well, I am looking at possibly telling her flat out to stop (thanks Meret, Jan), introduce her to better alternatives like real food (thanks Hayley), then give her a hug (thanks Jeepneytales).

About my oversupply of Baby Ruth, I think I will just throw them all away. I cannot possibly carry the weight of giving out something that I have full knowledge of being harmful to one’s health.

Besides, if I do throw them into the garbage, I would not be guilty of throwing away food, because, hey, it isn’t really food, is it?

PS: My post about Organic TV Dinners has taken a back seat, but it will be posted soon. Also, this week, I will finally order on Uddermilk.com, and of course, I will report on the quality of their food.

How do I say no to somebody who sincerely offers something that I know is bad?

No, this is not a solvent–sniffing kind of a dilemma or a kill–someone–for–me kind of a deal. This is, as you all know by now, about food.

I am aware that, in all honesty, that somebody, a woman I’m going to call Lady in Red, does not know that the item she gives out can kill me or her or the entire population in the long run. She is a very kind and generous person–a saint trapped in this wicked earth– a well-respected citizen and a very talented and skillful human being. However, she is not health conscious.

Every time I see her, she always hands me a bar of Baby Ruth. She is giddy and glad when she gives me those sweet nothings.

Growing up, I loved Baby Ruth, and she knows it that’s why she gives me those to make me happy. But I am a grown human being now, yet somehow, she thinks I still party with that candy.

The last time I remember eating Baby Ruth was when boys like me still had Alyssa Milano in the category of Babe To Be Imagined.

I am in a conundrum. A problem that even high-minded physicists would find more difficulty in solving than the problem of Dark Energy.

What am I going to do with the Baby Ruth bars that I have amassed in my fridge?

I can’t throw them away. I can’t give them away to kids on Trick or Treat Night. I can’t share it with anyone and more so, obviously, I can’t eat them. Why? Because I know it is bad.

If I do any of these options either guilt or diabetes will cause my demise.

But if I don’t do anything, Baby Ruth will eat my fridge and I would have no more space to even cool a slice of lemon.

What should I do? I don’t want to hurt Lady in Red’s feelings by asking her to stop. What’s the best way to handle this?

As I write this blog, Sheryl Mae, with arms folded, and deep in thought, is looking inside the fridge like Edwin Hubble peeping into a Black Hole.

Help!

PS: I am investigating Organic TV dinners and will post something about it tomorrow.

I mean, seriously, how could a heavily preserved and frozen packaged meal be called organic?