(click here!) can help you sail through the holidays and still lose weight! 

For six weeks I had been tormented by close contact with a box of truffles -- yet until last week I had not touched a single one.

This would not be noteworthy if I were speaking of the kind of truffle that is an expensive fungus and which is odious even to contemplate. No, Im talking Godiva dark chocolate truffles, the kind that will induce swooning in any self-respecting chocoholic. If I may brag, I believe this degree of self-restraint was remarkable on my part. Yet who among us doesnt have a breaking point?

Just for the record, Godiva chocolates are not a staple on my regular shopping list. Laundry detergent, milk bones for the dog, low-fat cottage cheese, yes. Even Splenda-infused, sugar-free chocolate ribbon "ice cream" gets tossed in the cart. But Godiva chocolates? Au contraire!

I had bought the truffles as a special indulgence for my husband on his birthday. Those of you already suspicious of my true motives for this purchase are correct: I was banking on him sharing the stash. In my defense, buying the Godiva had been an act of desperation. As my husbands birthday loomed closer, I was flummoxed about choosing a gift. Like a lot of men, hes hard to buy for. He doesnt hunt, fish or whittle wood into ducks in the garage. I even toyed with the notion of buying him a new four-iron club until I remembered that he doesnt golf, either. He has enough ties to outfit all of Wall Street. He is maddeningly unmaterialistic.

I try not to hold this against him. But as a considerate wife, I strive to make gift buying for my birthday as easy as possible. Over the years, I have let him know -- with the gentlest of hints -- that I can be happy with a vast variety of things. Diamonds, sapphires, Caribbean cruises -- all are fine with me. After all, I hate to be a burden.

As the birthday approached, I finally ordered tickets to a concert, but that event was several weeks off. I still needed a little something for him on his special day. Passing by a Godiva store in the mall, I let the spirit move me. I tried not to think about the potentially lethal impact these chocolates might have on my weight control program.

Unfortunately, my spouse has an odd personality quirk. Hes neither a "foodie" nor a chocoholic. To him, eating is just a pesky nuisance interrupting an otherwise productive workday. Given the wide gap between our approaches to food, it is amazing that our marriage has proved so durable.

It didnt surprise me that days and weeks after his birthday, he seemed to forget that he was only an arms length from sharing these delectable and scrumptious yummies with me. As a result, each day he went off to work and the kids went to school, leaving me alone in the house with the Godiva. Alone, unsupervised and yearning.

I tried to put it out of my mind, but the thought of those truffles sitting in the refrigerator became too much. I tinkered with the fridges thermostat to make sure I wasnt over-chilling the delicacies. Their ultimate purpose in life was to be eaten, preferably by a card-carrying chocoholic like me.

How long would they have to wait to fulfill their cocoa-dusted destiny? My husband would not have said anything had I dipped into a French vanilla truffle, but deep down, would he think less of me if I proved to be a woman of easy chocolate virtue?

I wrestled with my conscience. If pressed, I could justify consuming my husbands birthday truffles on health grounds. Research has proven time and time again that the antioxidants in dark chocolate enhance the functioning of important cells in blood vessels. Volunteers in a recent study who ate 100 grams of dark chocolate experienced improved endothelial functioning lasting for at least three hours. Im not sure what endothelial functioning means, but it sounds vitally important. With the Godiva in the house, I could keep my endothelials functioning like a well-oiled machine just by eating dark chocolate every three hours!

On the other hand, a theft is a theft. Besides, I live with enough regrets, such as the time last week when I stood in the 10-items-or-less line in the supermarket when I knew darned well I had 13 items. And, while Im confessing here, I once shorted the newspaper delivery boy a Christmas bonus, and dont think he ever let me live that down. For six months afterward, he tossed our paper in the neighbors thorny bushes, and I still have the scrapes to prove it. Would I now compound these moral lapses by buckling under the pressure of a mochacinno chocolate truffle with an espresso-flavored mousse and vanilla-cream center?

It became harder to remain absorbed in the serious business of writing humor each day while the thought of those truffles gnawed at me. I felt my resolve crumbling like so many cheap Oreos. It was time for decisive action.

That night after dinner, I waved the box -- still with its plastic wrapping and chocolate brown ribbon -- in front of my husband and demanded that he eat at least one. "Maybe later," he said as he headed out the door. "Im going to clear the rain gutters now. Theyre predicting rain." I felt a chocolate meltdown coming on. There was an easy, obvious solution to the problem. I could leave the box on the table, call the kids, and the truffles would be history. But I couldnt bring myself to allow children who think that Nestles milk chocolate is a delicacy to tear into a box of Godiva truffles.

After my husband had cleared the rain gutters, I stalked him throughout the house with the chocolates. "If you care about my mental health and my waistline you will begin to eat your birthday chocolates -- now," I demanded.

This got his attention. Taking the box from me, he noticed the price, which I had forgotten to remove. "You paid this much for eight chocolates?"

"No price is too high to celebrate a man of your caliber," I said, wishing he would just get on with it. I believe that knowing how much I paid for the truffles may have soured his appetite, but he dutifully ate the smooth coconut truffle. In the spirit of togetherness, I had the double chocolate raspberry.

That was two weeks ago and he hasnt taken a single other truffle since.

This morning I decided I could no longer take responsibility for his continued shilly-shallying over the Godiva. Boldly, I opened the box to enjoy a piece with a mid-morning cup of coffee, and was shocked to discover that two more truffles were missing! Obviously, one of the children found my secret hiding place for the truffles, behind the pre-washed arugula. (I really didnt imagine anyone would check there.) Its only a matter of time before this same thief absconds with the rest. No wonder that society worries about the declining moral standards of todays youth.

Not wanting to become an accessory to a crime committed by minors, I ate a French vanilla truffle. And then a dark chocolate one.

Now there are only two left. If I can force my husband to have another one after dinner tonight, I should have this box finished by tomorrow, and this entire sorry episode of the truffles will be behind me. Literally.

And next year, when my husbands birthday rolls around, he just may find himself with that four-iron after all.

eDiets knows that trying to lose weight this time of year can be tough. If you need some support with your dieting challenges, we have over 80 different support groups and 21 fantastic diet programs to customize. Let us help you reach your goals! Click  HERE for a free profile.

Judy Gruen is the author of the humor books Carpool Tunnel Syndrome: Motherhood as Shuttle Diplomacy (Champion Press) and Till We Eat Again: Confessions of a Diet Dropout. Visit Judy's website and subscribe to her semi-monthly humor newsletter at www.judygruen.com.