In front of my own husband. Close your eyes and imagine this scene:
It’s 12:30 pm, your husband is fast asleep despite the bright overhead lights still on. The overhead lights are still on because you are engrossed in a really good book. After having stuffed yourself that evening with an insanely large dinner, you realize you feel pretty bloated & gross & nauseous. In fact, you start to feel really sick & clammy. In an effort to cool yourself down, you strip down to your underwear & a sport’s bra and focus on anything else besides the over-full stomach. Then a lightbulb goes off in your head! If I could just eat something sour, I’m sure it would relieve this nasty tummy ache! Mentally patting your genius self on the back, you dig in the back of the pantry for this this- a 30 oz. bag of sour patch kids. You take your mostly naked self back to bed, lights still blaring, and settle down to cure your stomach. You are a little annoyed when you open the bag to discover that there are only a few left. Somebody must have been eating them, and it wasn’t you! You gave up sweets for Lent! In any event, you decide not to hold the candy-eater, AHEM, husband, in contempt and make due with simply licking the remaining sour-sugar off your fingers. You breathe deeply, finally relaxing and feeling better. Then your husband wakes up. Your husband wakes up to find you. Find you half-naked licking sour patch kids remains off your fingers. Licking sour patch sugar off your fingers at now 1 am.
Unfortunately, this story is way too true.
In other news, this sour candy cure is not part of my natural remedy discoveries, but it kinda worked. The real cure for my problem would be to learn some self control at the dinner table ;)