As I sit here, I am eating part of a chocolate Easter Bunny wondering how I became eighty pounds over weight. Sixty pounds ago my skinny brother almost killed himself laughing watching me try to get in a tree stand. There are jelly beans, M&M's, caramel filled eggs, Peeps, and a whole assortment of things to induce a diabetic coma sitting in a green and pink basket. I have chocolate all over my face and my eyes are glazed. I think I'm turning in to an Oompa Loompa in a river of chocolate. If Easter itself wasn't enough, we also celebrated my son's birthday the same day this year, so there was about five pounds of some kind of a brown sugar, chocolate, and heath bar cake with ice cream.
My son is nineteen and still at home, so over the years Hon has turned into a baking fiend. Every Saturday or Sunday morning I wake up to muffins, cinnamon rolls, and all types of baked goods. She bakes cakes and cookies, makes candy, and brings home treats from her work. She works for a wholesaler of foods so she brings home lots of goodies.
Nowadays if my supper doesn't have pork, red meat in it or cheese on it, it doesn't taste right. I hate fish and chicken. The celery in the fridge is limp and black. The vegetable drawer is filled with lunch meat and cheese.
I'm sure Halloween candy will be displayed as soon as the half price Easter candy is gone in the stores. As long as there is candy in the grocery store, there is always candy in the house. There is always candy in the grocery store as you well know. You are saying to yourself right now "You don't have to eat it!" What the hell is the matter with you! That's like saying "Look at all the air. You don't have to breathe it."
In desperation I pulled out the Kirby vacuum the other day. It is a marvel. It almost does everything except your taxes. It has a massager, a spray painter, a rug shampooer, a sander, a floor polisher, a blower, a thing to blow up air mattress with, a thing to remove dog hair from your couch, but there is no frikkin liposuction attachment. Someone at Kirby overlooked it. I may have to call Roto Rooter because I've become too fat to fish. Wouldn't that be great? Suck out all the fat once a week and then replace it!
My brain knows we have enough food in the house to survive a holocaust, but my body is convinced there's a famine coming. It's sure I will start starving tomorrow so it won't let go of a single atom of my lard storage. The fat just keeps accumulating and never goes away.
They say America is overweight because of fast food. We eat Poppa Murphy's Pizza once a week, but that's not the beginning of the problem! We eat sweets. We are overweight because we eat too damn many sweets, grease and carbohydrates. By we I mean me and a majority of my readers. Moms of America, Help! Food is not love! We have been turned into zombified frikkin sugar addicts! I'm getting my mother's thighs, and I can pinch an inch on my forehead!
At our house, we are always on a diet except when we're eating and we never seem to stop eating. I have learned how to eat in my sleep, for gosh sakes! I wake up to empty boxes of cereal. Entire blocks of cheese are missing in the morning. There are empty cookie packages strewn everywhere. If the food wasn't there I wouldn't eat it. I even seem to brush my teeth afterwards.
Well I'm almost out of Easter candy, and all these exclamation points are making me breathe hard. I'd better go get some half price stuff before it's gone.
How are you faring this holiday? I'll bet you don't have Christmas or Valentines candy left. If you're skinny. I hate you.
the grinning Jabba out.