My grandmother told me a story once where she would bake cookies and then they would mysteriously disappear. She said the only people in the house were me a 3-year-old and herself. She couldn’t understand how it was happening.
You see the cookie jar she said was in a high cupboard that was blocked by the wooden handle of a broom that was far too high for me to reach. She eventually hid herself to find out how the cookies were disappearing.
When she was hidden in the pantry she said that I came into the room, moved a chair over to the cupboard, pulled the broom out of the handle, and got the cookie jar, took one cookie out, and then replaced everything as I found it. She was so surprised that I figured this out and that I carefully hid the evidence of how it was done.
I asked her as a teenager why she let me have the cookies if I wasn’t supposed to eat them. She said that after all that work she figured I deserved the cookie. I can’t disagree with her.
Cookies are still very tempting to me, but I have learned to moderate their impact. Still, if I worked in a bakery it would be bad news for my figure. The best way to avoid temptation is to not be around it.