The Cheerios my child is playing with on the kitchen floor look yummy.
I imagine them on a bowl of ice cream topped with fresh lime curd, which I happen to have in my refrigerator as I type. But no ice cream.
The thing about weight-loss is it is an ongoing journey. Once the final pound is off, there it is, lingering in a simple box of Cheerios. It is loitering in a $5 Barnes & Noble gift card where you know you can get a big, iniquitous slice of cheesecake.
I lost my weight when I was 25 years old. I will live until I am at least 70, when I know it is doubtful I will weigh 115 pounds. When will I let that first 5 pounds go? Are you ever supposed to let them go?
I know, it is dreadful to listen to a thin girl moan on about her weight issues, but I seriously want a slice of cake right now, and right now is 10AM. Sweet Lord. That is not the way to start a day.
But if it was, I would choose this one. Probably my favorite cake I have baked this year. You should make one.
And then come over to my house, rip this ridiculous, measured bowl of Total out of my hands, and shove a forkful of it into my mouth. Tell me to get over myself, and then leave.
Or don't. I am only 31, for goodness sake, and not quite ready to concede to larger pants. Leave me to my bowl of tedium, and enjoy the cake yourself. Just a slice, though. A little slice won't hurt
I mean you. Right?