Because Everyone Needs a Little Yellow #5 in Their Diet

I love candy corn. I love it for its artificially-colored, tooth-rotting, corn syrupy goodness. I love it because it's one of the first signs of fall, and it reminds me of years of fabulously creative Halloween costumes. I love it because it is delicious. I don't care that the ingredient list sounds like toxic waste, or that it would most likely survive a nuclear attack, or that I make myself sick eating it practically every year. That's part of the fun.

I haven't bought my candy corn yet this year. I generally prefer to wait until at least October, to get the full effect of the candy corn experience. Plus it gives me something to look forward to, other than the day when the Wellbutrin actually starts working. I'll wait until there is a lovely crisp fall day, and I will buy my candy corn and I will eat it. And I will wash it down with a pumpkin spice latte. And then I will spend the rest of the day complaining that my stomach hurts because I ate too much candy corn. But it must be done. Because it's tradition. And because it makes me happy. And these days, when I can find something that makes me happy that doesn't have a remote control or a Prada label and a $400 price tag, I go with it.