Not sure if it’s the crispy, light texture or the cinnamon-sugar yumminess baked in every bite that causes me to forsake everything I believe about calories and portion size. 
After picking up a bag of these at the store, I ate half the bag before I got home.
And then … I’m ashamed to tell you … but, I ate the other half of the bag later that night … actually it was two bags that Beau and I split, which equals out to an entire bag per person.
Thus, the resulting problem.
On another note … 
just for you Drama Mama … 
My fear of biscuit cans revealed.


For my entire adult life, I have had a fear of biscuit cans … something about the popping open of them. For at least the first 10 years of our marriage, I never really purchased canned biscuits of any sort, unless I had a recipe that called for them, and then I waited for Beau to come home so that he could open them.
If, by chance I was not able to wait for him, I would slowly take the biscuit can with my outstretched arm and in my right hand, never allowing the can to leave the kitchen counter, scoot my body as far away from the can as possible, turn my head away, close my eyes, and swiftly pop the can on the counter. But, this would only happen in a biscuit emergency (not too often).
Since then, actually a couple of years ago, after admitting this fear to my mother, she informed me that I had a can explode on me as a child. Well, no wonder. I have been scarred for life by a biscuit can!