When is it enough?

When will we say food obsession occupies too much space in our national consciousness?

And when did it begin to creep into every corner of our lives?

Lately it seems that our love-hate relationship with our taste buds has spilled from the kitchens and couches where it belongs to our bodies, our bedrooms and the bathrooms of our homes.

We now have the dubious privilege of smelling food at every turn, in the form of stuff like bubble baths, body lotions, cleaning supplies and candles.

I'd say it began with the relatively harmless citruses -- you know, lemon-scented furniture polish and dishwashing liquids. Then came the cucumber and avocado moisturizers, followed by strawberry bath oils and orang- scented stain removers.

Now, Lord help us, we have everything on the public radar from blueberry-cobbler and banana-nut-scented candles to flavored and edible underwear. Everything is about food these days, including our drawers.

It seems we have way too many food choices. Does anybody remember when potato chips only came in three different flavors: barbecue, sour cream and onion, and plain? On a recent trip to our break room vending machine, I saw hot dog and mustard-flavored potato chips.

And are you ready for this? Now you can get steak and onion flavor, ketchup flavor, jalapeno, cheddar and salsa, bacon, dill, chili, pita, pizza and pickle potato chips. But of the many, many and varied flavors, there are two that the mere sound of the name makes the back of my throat sweat -- one called seafood and another called meat.

Meat. Have mercy.

Yet it's all over the news these days that Americans are getting fatter. More exercise and less eating is the best formula to deal with the problem. But how do they expect us to curb our appetites when we are pummeled constantly with food images?

Getting back to the scent thing: When we were kids, the smell of Mom's cinnamon rolls baking on Sunday morning lured us, salivating, from our beds. Of course, the rule was not one buttery bite until after church -- but the mere memory of what would be waiting was enough to make us sit still through hours of that old-time religion.

Now we have the false lure of cinnamon potpourri that you can boil on the stove. The scent evokes memories, and memories don't make you fat. But they sure can make you crave the things that do.

Did I tell you my mom was a professional cook? She could throw down with the best of them. I often think I had better boyfriends than I might have won on a level playing field because my mom made a two-layer yellow cake with chocolate frosting that stood about 4 inches high.

Her homemade brownies were light, melt-in-your-mouth affairs that could be traded for anything from a school lunch to movie tickets. The very smell of them could bring the neighborhood kids to a standstill.

Which brings me to the next question. What is the deal on having food-scented soaps and candles in the bathroom? Chocolate-brownie-scented candles in the bathroom. How is your digestive system supposed to act when you're signaling it on both ends?

I guess nothing is sacred anymore.

It comes down to the fact that we live in a world where it's OK to smell food, but not to eat it. On the other hand, some of us seem to want to bombard our senses at a level of intensity that I find unfathomable. Some call it aromatherapy, but smelling it makes me want to eat it, and denying myself increases my stress, so how have I helped myself if I fill my world with the enticing scent of edibles?

Well, commercials play love songs as background music to doughnut commercials, and any number of food products are pitched as friendship and entertainment. And the really ooey-gooey stuff with lots of fat, sugar and empty calories is called comfort food.

Comfort. Yeah, right. Tell that to your jeans. Which brings me to the proliferation of Spandex.

But that's a story for another day.

Contact staff writer Agnes Diggs at (760) 740-3511 or adiggs@nctimes.com.