He’s a ferrety ferret, a hider of sweet things. He’s like a crack addict for lollies, sweets, desserts and candies. He’s a sugar addict pre-rehab. He works hard, so the calories burn off him. Mostly. So even though I’m not too fond of that sugary stuff, I let him be. I’ve taken it out of our food pretty much everywhere else, so I let the man be.
Though. I’ve been too strict.
He’s gone into hiding.
He has gone underground with his stash.
Which is all kinds of weird for a grown man in his own house, right?
Sorry babe, it is!
But it’s my fault when it comes down to it. Does anyone remember how badly I reacted in my second week of quitting sugar when he brought home a dozen Krispy Kreme doughnuts? I lost my head a little bit. In the end, all it did was proved to me that without sugar in my life, I didn’t crave it anymore. But it set a precedent. I told him it was not supportive and crap to bring that stuff into the house. So now, he hides it.
Wait.
That’s not better at all, is it?
Now he’s a sneaky ferret?
A candy-filled, sneaky ferret.
The sneaky bit is his fault. Mostly.
Decide for us Sugers, whose fault is this? Who turned Hubby into a sneaky candy ferret?
Suger 
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