Once upon a time, when I was a child, a long, long time ago, I woke upon an Easter morn. Excitedly I ran to where my mother had piled my easter eggs in unison and in decorative display. I tore the wrappers off in haste and in insurmountable greed, ate chocolate like it was my final day in this earth.
Within hours, my stomach sounded like the eruption of Mount Doom at the destruction of the one ring. Followed closely by projectile vomit in all directions. No one was safe, except the dog hidden behind the sofa. It was horrifying, unsettling and I ended up laying down where I was exhausted, almost passed out from the crash of the sugar rush that had fueled my path of wonton destruction.
Ever since that day, I vowed never shall chocolate touch my lips upon an easter morn and to this day, it is an oath I keep to this very day, with the very though of it making me queezy in the stomach.
I will let you draw your own conclusions and lessons from my fable in the hope that you will never follow the path that led me to my darkest hour.