Can't live with 'em, can't duct-tape them to the couch and forbid them to ever go shopping again as long as they live.
Last night, as we plowed through the Tim-Tams that Bells sent (for the uninitiated, Tim-Tams are two chocolate wavers, with chocolate cream between, dipped in chocolate), I admitted that I knew where to get them here on the mainland, but I never did, because I didn't want to weigh eight hundred pounds. The Goob had the last of Bells cookies this morning. "Oooo, chokat fo bweafast!"
Today, the husbeast and his father went out to run some errands. Next thing I knew?
Maybe I'll try locking them in the yarn closet next time.