Sunday, May 27, 2012
I have a confession to make...I'm addicted.
Not to the pain meds. They are wonderful and helpful, but I thank God that I am able to take them only when needed.
No, I'm addicted to something much more insidious. Something that has me stooping to lows I never thought I'd see. Like most addictions, it started off benign enough. You see, I'm addicted to (deep breath) CHEESE.
Yes, cheese.
Oh, sit there and smirk if you must. I'll bet I'm not the only one who has raided the fridge at midnight, scarfing down shards of $10/lb. parmesean. And if that were the end of it, that would be okay. But it isn't. I have developed such a taste for cheese that we can't keep the good stuff. Gone. All gone. Those men I live with seem to think they should have some on their sandwiches. Don't they know I have a serious addiction??
Like all addicts, I started with the good stuff. And only occasionally. I thought I'd hit rock bottom when I came to standing in the kitchen eating processed cheese slices, not even bothering to make sure the plastic wrapper hit the trash can. Then a new low, CANNED cheese...cracker strictly optional.
I'm at rock bottom now, though. And it's all the Mennonites' fault. Oh sure, you can get good stuff there at great prices. But the traps are set. For the past 5 visits I'd eyed the bag. A small cellophane bag filled with powdered cheese - you know the bright orange stuff that you get off Cheetos, or in the Kraft box? Yeah, that. Two visits ago, I bought it. It was only a dollar or so, but I picture Reuben saying, "Ya, papa. She bought the cheese. Go ahead and raise the price a little each week."
Now, I have always bought Cheetos just for that orange, cheesy, salty goodness. In fact, I have been known to just lick it off the Cheetos. Gross, huh. Well, now I don't do that any more. Even I knew to treat this new drug with caution. I started off small - sprinkled on popcorn was good. Mixed in sour cream as a dip. But the other night, I couldn't take it any longer. I didn't want anything to eat, been losing weight. But I just wanted something to taste good. I did it. I took a tiny pinch out of the bag and deposited it straight.onto.the.tongue.
What have I done? Is there a 12-step program for me???
No, I'm addicted to something much more insidious. Something that has me stooping to lows I never thought I'd see. Like most addictions, it started off benign enough. You see, I'm addicted to (deep breath) CHEESE.
Yes, cheese.
Oh, sit there and smirk if you must. I'll bet I'm not the only one who has raided the fridge at midnight, scarfing down shards of $10/lb. parmesean. And if that were the end of it, that would be okay. But it isn't. I have developed such a taste for cheese that we can't keep the good stuff. Gone. All gone. Those men I live with seem to think they should have some on their sandwiches. Don't they know I have a serious addiction??
Like all addicts, I started with the good stuff. And only occasionally. I thought I'd hit rock bottom when I came to standing in the kitchen eating processed cheese slices, not even bothering to make sure the plastic wrapper hit the trash can. Then a new low, CANNED cheese...cracker strictly optional.
I'm at rock bottom now, though. And it's all the Mennonites' fault. Oh sure, you can get good stuff there at great prices. But the traps are set. For the past 5 visits I'd eyed the bag. A small cellophane bag filled with powdered cheese - you know the bright orange stuff that you get off Cheetos, or in the Kraft box? Yeah, that. Two visits ago, I bought it. It was only a dollar or so, but I picture Reuben saying, "Ya, papa. She bought the cheese. Go ahead and raise the price a little each week."
Now, I have always bought Cheetos just for that orange, cheesy, salty goodness. In fact, I have been known to just lick it off the Cheetos. Gross, huh. Well, now I don't do that any more. Even I knew to treat this new drug with caution. I started off small - sprinkled on popcorn was good. Mixed in sour cream as a dip. But the other night, I couldn't take it any longer. I didn't want anything to eat, been losing weight. But I just wanted something to taste good. I did it. I took a tiny pinch out of the bag and deposited it straight.onto.the.tongue.
What have I done? Is there a 12-step program for me???
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Okay, so go ahead and report me. For supper I forced my poor, pitiful child to have.........(go on).............(building drama)......................(wait for it).........................STEAK. And cauliflower. And deviled eggs. And baked beans. Made with love. From scratch.
*Sigh* I know, I know....just write me up.
*Sigh* I know, I know....just write me up.
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