How I Discovered I Eat Too Many Beavertails

I eat a lot of Beavertails during the summer.
Sunday, Peter and I decided to take the Boy to Magnetic Hill to feed the ducks. It was just a coincidence that MH is where the only Beavertails outlet in Moncton is. Really.
While we were there, I thought I might as well get one, since we were only ten feet away from the store.
While my succulent cream cheese and chives Beavertail was bubbling away in the deep fryer, the young high school whippersnapper behind the counter said, 'Here, take a club card, you're in here all the time."
Desperate Housewife: "No, I'm not! I've only been here today and last Sunday!"
Whippersnapper: "Well, you were here a lot last summer. Here, I'll give you three stamps to start because you bought three Beavertails last Sunday." (I did, but I didn't eat them all at once, I swear!)

They remember me! How humiliating! I'm the Beavertail hog of Moncton. Marvelous.