Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been 29 years since my last confession… Maybe longer. I can’t remember. I only went that one time after confirmation and, even then, I made up some random sin to tell the priest. But, I digress. My sin, Father, is that I have been eating my babies’ teething biscuits… I know I’ve been away from the Church for quite some time, but I’m pretty sure snickering is not a part of confession.

My wife and I have been trying to get in shape. We joined one of those fitness boot camp things… Yes, that’s why I’m limping. We’ve also been tracking our calories, trying to eat better. I haven’t had anything sweet in over a month and it’s getting to me. I mean I used to live on sugar and caffeine… No, I haven’t tried putting ice cream on a communion wafer… It’s your guilty pleasure? Seems a strange use of the body of Christ, but okay. Father, if we could get back to me. Thanks.

So, we forgot we had these teething biscuits and the boys’ teeth came in fine. One day, I was looking for a between-meal snack for them and I found the box. I bit into one, just to see if it would be too hard for them to chew. Father, it tasted like animal crackers. Like a brick of animal crackers. If God didn’t want me to eat them, why did he make them taste like animal crackers?… Yes, I bet they’re great with ice cream. Father, please.

They come in little sealed bags of two. I split one, giving each boy a half, then I ate the other. Next time, I gave the boys just a quarter each. The last time, I ate both biscuits while they played in the living room. What am I to do, Father?… No, they’re not hard to find… Just down at the Albertson’s… I don’t have any on me. Y’know what? This was a bad idea. No, I don’t want any ice cream… You’re creepy.