Less and more

When I was a kid, after church on Sundays, my Dad would take us out to a place where he could pick up the paper.   All the kids in my family would each be allowed to choose a candy.   The newspaper shop was so tiny and narrow and packed to maximum capacity.  My brothers, sisters and I would file in and out, one or two at a time.   The walls of the place were covered with thin shelves, each filled with items such as; aspirin, cigarettes and tobacco, magazines, bits of office supplies, mints, shoe polish.  The whole place reeked of paper and ink.  It smelled, in fact, just like the news.  
When it was my turn, I'd labor over which candy to choose.   Bite my nails, anxiously scan the rows of candy, racking my brain, looking for the perfect find.  It was always hard for me to pick which one was going to fit all my needs.  I'd become a nervous wreck with the impatient calls of my siblings barking at me, rushing me to make a decision so that they could squeeze in and grab their prize.  
It shocks me to look back and realize how often I selected something I didn't even like; Necco wafers.  Don't get me wrong, they are a lovely candy.   Absolutely nothing wrong with them, except that I don't actually like em.  Even still, I pretty much took them 3 out of 4 Sundays a month.  You see there's a whole lot of them in a package.  You get a bunch in a roll and you can make them last for a long time.  Throw in the fact that I didn't enjoy eating them and they'd be around the whole darn day.  
A chocolate bar, well that would be gone in 2 minutes because I liked it so much.  Then what would I have?  
Has it really taken me what amounts to half of my life to understand that sometimes more is less and vice versa?  
I guess it has taken me quite a long while to figure that one out.  

Today I revel in the knowledge that less is often more; more or less.