Erica Lucke Dean

"Making the world a better place, one book at a time."

oh when the saints go marching in

Its official…the chopstick diet is a complete failure.  I went from eating everything I wanted as long as I used chopsticks, to eating anything I thought was possible to eat with chopsticks, to just eating anything…screw the chopsticks.  My husband is now overseeing everything I eat to ensure that I comply with my self-inflicted goals.  I can’t complain, because his willpower is stronger than mine when it comes to sweets.  Then again, I have to constantly remind myself how much I love my husband to avoid snapping and turning into a flesh eating zombie.  That reminds me…I’m dying for a hamburger!  And a Coke.  I’m trying to pretend my salad is a Happy Meal, but it’s just not working.  My mouth starts to water at the mere mention of McDonald’s.  And I don’t even like McDonald’s that much.  If that’s not bad enough, tragically, I bought way too many cupcakes for my son’s birthday party and we have more than two dozen uneaten cupcakes within the walls of my house.  I hate to see them go to waste, but I have been forbidden to eat any.  I have already managed to sneak two since breakfast, but I fear my husband will start counting them at random intervals and I will be caught!  My willpower is slipping and the cats are starting to look very appetizing. 

Will not eat cats. 

Thank goodness my husband is such a good cook.  We ate every meal at home again today.  I find that I do actually like home cooking despite my arguments to the contrary.  Super Bowl Sunday should have been an excuse to indulge in left over snack foods from Spencer’s birthday, but Mike threatened to throw all treats away if he caught me with Doritos again.  I know it’s for my own good.  Doritos are bad for me.  And apparently like crack, because the more I ate, the more I wanted, and I was resorting to devious means to obtain them.  If only the kids had been home to eat them.  Snacks would not have lasted past the lunch hour.  But the kids had other plans today.  And their plans included Super Bowl parties. 

I find it curious that individuals, who would ordinarily prefer being subjected to all manners of torture rather than endure a single quarter of televised football, will gleefully swarm to any manner of football related gathering on Super Bowl Sunday.  Mike and I ventured out during the game (a game we avoided strictly on principle) and found ourselves at a Starbucks that is typically packed on Sunday night.  The usual crowd—a veritable orchard of Apple Macbook users—was conspicuously missing in action.  Could it be that even the computer nerds that inhabit the local Starbucks on a nightly basis could be having a Super Bowl party?  A theme party perhaps?  A Lord of the Rings themed Super Bowl party?  The grid iron battle for middle Earth?  Hmmm.  It’s possible. 

I personally get nervous in a room filled with football fans.  They don’t sit still.  And they shout at the television as if the referees can actually hear the obscenities they are directing at them.  My ex-husband used to dress in a regulation football uniform complete with cup to watch his beloved Cowboys play.  I stayed barricaded in a bunker in the bedroom with the children, where we took shelter until the game was over.  If the Cowboy’s won, we would come out right away.  If not, we stayed in there until the coast was clear.  Can’t be too careful when TV remotes and other assorted objects are flying around the room. 

This year’s game is over and the family is winding down for the night.  The children have finally discovered the snack foods—thank God—and Mike is surfing the cable channels looking for something either music or Planet Green related. 

As for me?  I’m exhausted.  I’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately, and running out of places to put my fingers.  I am enjoying the glow, however, so don’t expect me to blow out the flame any time soon!  I’ve discovered that keeping up with a daily blog is like having a second full time job, but lucky for you…this one is my favorite!  As long as you keep coming back for more, there will be more to come back for.  Sounds like a plan to me…how about you?

But for now, I need to hit the sack.  It’s been a while since I’ve gotten more than five hours of sleep, and I may actually be able to get in six or seven tonight! 

Until the next time…I’ll be dreaming of cheeseburgers!

Erica

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