It's 3:11 in the morning and I'm standing in the fridge door staring at an apple and the last piece of Boston Creme.
I'm thinking two things.
- what did I ever do that made my child want to be a baker of sweets instead of a dietician?
- would Eve had eaten the fruit if there had been chocolate there?
Just imagine where we might all be - eutopia - chocolate eutopia.
I've swallowed the hype and jumped on the diet bandwagon of the new year. Cause, well girls, I've let myself go.
Right now I'm hungry. But more than that I want chocolate. And it's keeping me awake.
I take a swig of milk out of the carton and shut the door, even as I remember how many times I've told Shelby not to do that knowing I do it a dozen times a day. What I say and what I do . . .
I open the fridge. Close it again. I write this post on the back of a receipt - because I think it might be funny later - and I chug a bottle of water.
Now I know I won't be able to sleep cause I'll pee the rest of the dark morning and who ate the last oreo?
An hour later and it's 4:20 and I'm standing in the fridge door again and
who ate the last oreo?
