New Year’s Goal #7
“To eat more healthily and cut wayyyy back on sugar–so that I can be here to play with my babies for a long, long time.”
Who wouldn’t want that?
Too bad, all I can say here is a great, big, “Yikes!”
Actually, believe it or not, I was doing great for about 5 weeks. Sugar and I were barely speaking…
Oh, I wasn’t doing too much label reading or anything–it was more like just not eating the cookie, or donut, or ice cream. Now and then I’d make a treat or something and taste it, but honestly, skipping it wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.
For me, the secret was to tell myself that I could have whatever I wanted–if I REALLY wanted it. However, I needed to drink water first–which magically made an apple sound and taste better.
Anyway, it worked. The weight was coming off. Wahooo!
Until, that is, the evil Easter candy came along. It was bad, as you may remember.
There’s more. What you didn’t know–unless you’ve been to my house in the last week–is that one quick trip to a town called Logan and you can really end up with a kink in your cart. Logan is a two hour drive from my place and so whenever we go there, we always stop at the Gossner’s Cheese Outlet. Sounds harmless enough.
We buy Provalone, Swiss, Mozzarella, Smokey Gouda…
…and root beer milk. Incredible.
These things are pretty much good for you, right?— so I’m not worried. Also, when it’s as fresh as you can possibly get it–yeah, the cows are right outside the back door– I can’t feel really bad about this place.
Sadly, now we come to the truly evil part of the story.
Down the road a spell from Logan, there is a great, huge, magical factory that no doubt employs hundreds and thousands of people, thus raising the standard of living in the Logan area to a…um…well, a higher standard.
That’s a plus–right? Of course, right.
The frightening news is that this factory is…a…dare I say it?
a…cookie factory. You should be screaming right about now.
Here is how we handled the Pepperidge Farm Cookie Outlet.
There are no words to describe it. In fact, this whole experience may require some intense group therapy…
we can meet at my house…I have cookies! HA!
Ok, ok…seriously. I’m ready to behave again. Truly, I am.
And to prove my determination–
First: I put all my Easter candy in the bald kid room. Trust me, it now has the life expectancy of a sycamore moth.
Some clapping here–please.
Second: I put new twist ties on the cookie bags and ate a banana instead of ripping a big hole in the Milano bag–as previously planned.
A bit of cheering is in order now.
Thirdly: Later in the day, instead of downing 47 Brussels and 22 Piroettes, I opted for a handful of the babys’ animal cookies…and they weren’t even good.
I intend to be thin and gorgeous really soon so I can play with my babies forever. Or at least to fit better in an squishy, ridiculous airplane seat. I’ll do it–you’ll see.
In the meantime…I have a hot date with a treadmill.
Toss me an apple, would ya?