Well, I did not smash the wagon to bits, but I am not the shining star on the wagon, either. I gave myself a big ole freebie weekend for Easter, vowing to not care about what I ate. I'm Methodist and we don't do guilt. (Or at least that is what I have been told by my elders.) So, yay Jesus is risen! I'll eat frosted cookies to celebrate! And potato salad! And cheesy potato casserole! And green bean casserole! And fresh-baked dinner roles! And angel food cake! And chocolate, of course! Because what says "eternal gratitude" for my Lord's sacrifice? - chocolate, that's what.
Well, the weekend wasn't a total loss. I did go on a nice long walk on Saturday morning - wore out my fat old dog who hasn't been on a walk since Fall, poor thing. Then we took kids to this really cool new park and I climbed on and played on everything there, too. It was fun! Except for the "saddle spinner" which is this seat that you give yourself one little push and will then spin for all eternity until you put your foot down. I had to try really hard not to hurl.
And at one point, I felt like crap. Seriously, I was jittery and felt slightly ill after too many cookies and little Hershey's eggs. Too bad that didn't translate into at least a week of feeling nauseated at the sight of sweets. Heck, I still can't really stomach Bacardi Limon (after a bad episode at my sister's graduation party, ending with drinking the stuff straight out of the bottle and heading straight for the bathroom to talk on the big white phone), and that's after about 10 years post-OD on the stuff. So why don't I have that same aversion to frosted sugar cookies? Darn it. Oh well. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned..... I'll say two Weight Watcher's pledges and vow to stay out of my kids' Easter baskets."
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