My husband hollers from the other room, Whatcha doing? Nothing. Which is a lie. As I stand there shoveling Moose Tracks ice cream in my mouth straight out of the carton.
As if standing at the counter with a spoon doesn’t count.
My only saving grace is that He doesn’t jump up from reading his Ipad and make a trip to the bathroom. This gives him a direct view of my momentary, 15-minute indulgence.
It’s a love/hate relationship I have with this ice cream. You over promise and under deliver. But it’s so delicious at the time. Who’s counting calories? What carbs? I just want a bite or two. How is this half-gallon shrinking with my grandbabies infant spoon( for portion control of course)?
Determined but Undisciplined
Have you ever been there? I am so determined but undisciplined at times.
I tell myself, I’m only gonna eat 5 chips. I swear it’s like the potato chip whisperer starts seducing me.
I succumb to the pressure, not all at once. One chip at a time. Determined to quit. Before you know it that bag of Lay’s has laid me out.
My 5 chips of salty goodness and deliciousness overtook my willpower. I just couldn’t stop. Before you know it, I have eaten the whole bag.
You know you’ve gone too far when your fingers actually hurt from salt invasion. Humph. That stinks. Harmless chips punishing my fingertips, as if guilt could scream any louder.
I can’t believe I ate ALL of those. The whole bag.
First, the serving size is a substantial lie.
So is the ice cream carton, who are they serving here? I’ve birthed 2 children and am on my 8th grandchild. I am hungry. Sometimes even hangry. I’ve earned this snack attack. I made it through colic and teenage years.
Give me my snacks and back up so nobody gets hurt.
Did I add that my hormones are gently shifting? I said gentle, but I mean unleashed from hell and then some.
I hold onto clothing from xxx- small to xxx-large because you never know what season you are entering into. It’s true, ask any woman.
Is the joke on us? I don’t think so. But I kind of think so. We buy the lie of serving sizes and clothing sizes. We buy the fruit because it looks good and succumb to making, you guessed it, a cobbler.
It reminds me of the scripture saying, having a form of godliness but denying the power that makes them holy.
We have a form of discipline but follow-through is another story.
We subtly drop that half-gallon carton of moose tracks at the bottom of the cart. Throw those lays on top of it and pimp that ride.
Can you relate, friends?
Who overdoes it on broccoli and celery sticks?
Cucumber slices calling your name at 10 pm? I doubt it.
Craving those delicious chickpeas you roasted up while binge-watching Netflix? That would be a big fat no.
Is that ruffling I hear? Possibly a potato chip bag? Maybe.
The sound is faint but I detect it.
The nose can sniff it out… sometimes I take a meander right by the pantry door and what do ya know, it flings open and flashing in lights are pointing at, what do you think? You guessed it. Chips.
I say no, but my taste buds whisper just eat one or two. In that breathy seductive voice.
They say it takes 20 seconds to get over a craving. Seriously? Who’s gonna stand there counting. I can be back to the couch with my hand in the bag watching my program by then.
Tsk Tsk. Such are the things of life.
My grandson, Jackson, and I also share a common love. Jalapeno Cheetos. My husband always gives me that judgie look as I lick, yes lick, the orange off my fingers. Messy, but worth it.
He loves it when I eat these when we are traveling in the car.
Thinking he’s much more mature, cramming Oreos in his mouth. Albeit, He isn’t hiding from me around the corner. He stands there like he is loud and proud of His shoveling fest.
I don’t even wince. You can’t begin to let them see you sweat. Think of all the times you walked to the pantry to find an empty box left. The nerve.
Not every time, but a time or two enough for you to justify standing at the counter shoveling ice cream in for 15 minutes.
I act like there is a prize for this huh? Oh, there is, like squeezing busted biscuits in your jeans, swearing these suckers were dried way too long.
That prize? How about a departing gift of 10 say 15lbs? That should be fun.
Moo Moo’s looking more attractive these days? The prints aren’t that bad. Long flowing yards of love covering a multitude of my sins.
Stay on the Perimeter
They say stay on the perimeter of the store when shopping. I say why? You know why? Because they are hiding the good stuff from us. Right there in the middle aisles.
Next time you have a snack attack, it’s ok. Just don’t stay there forever. Go back to the perimeter of the store. Pick up the broccoli, give it some love, and thank it for its nutritional value.
Just because you fall off any wagon doesn’t mean you can’t jump up, dust off, and begin again. Laugh at yourself instead of being mad at yourself.
Meanwhile, enjoy a bite or two of ice cream.