That moment when you finally break down and make your annual Christmas fudge—the one with the mystery ingredient—for a party coming up and you realize that by the time you lick out that bowl, clean up the beater, and eat the extra that somehow made it onto your fingers while you shaped the chocolate logs, you will have eaten the equivalent of three pieces, and probably should not have any at the party.
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That moment when you finally break down and make your annual Christmas fudge—the one with the mystery ingredient—for a party coming up and you realize that by the time you lick out that bowl, clean up the beater, and eat the extra that somehow made it onto your fingers while you shaped the chocolate logs, you will have eaten the equivalent of three pieces, and probably should not have any at the party.