Because I had some overtime this week already, my boss let me get out early for our 14th wedding anniversary. I got home and Patrick and I went to do some errands. While riding in the car he asked the ultimate question of the day:
“Sooooo…what do you want to do tonight, huuuhhhh???”
“I want to be a bad, BAD girl,” I replied back in a breathy, smokey tone. “Mommy wants to be naughty today, like – RIGHT NOW!!”
He let out a long sigh, a wry smile and winked at me. He then pulled over into a parking lot. The Fry’s Marketplace parking lot.
“You want fresh baked cookies or something with lots of chocolate, don’t you?” he said.
“Well tonight is American Idol AND the season finale of America’s Next Top Model and I’ve been looking forward to this night all week…” I explained. “Please can we celebrate our anniversary *for reals* over the weekend?”
“Besides,” I said. “I know you want fresh baked cookies too. It will be sexy for our anniversary!”
You see, I’ve been doing so good on my diet and it is damn time for a splurge. I knew it was coming at any moment and our anniversary seemed like the perfect excuse. We went into the store and headed straight for the bakery.
Chocolate Chunk Pecan Cookies. Yah, bay-BEE! I reached for a piece of waxed tissue, folded it within my hand and lovingly chose the best six cookies from the case. My mouth was watering the whole time.
It was my true intention to leave at that point, but the deli area was blocking my way. Fresh fried chicken, mashed poatoes and gravy, peppered buttery corn. An Atkins girl’s nightmare!
Load me up!
We got the full meal deal and made our way home. We had a nice family dinner and then somewhere between the last dinner roll and scoop of gravy, I dissappeared. It was like a carbohydrate black out. When I snapped back to reality, I was in my room by my desk. The cookie bag was empty, the waxed tissue was crumpled to the side, there were lots of crumbs on the countertop and there was not a single cookie to be found. “Uh oh”, I thought.
Fast forward to the end of the night. Patrick and I are laying on the bed gazing into eachother’s eyes, professing our corny love speeches when he whispered in my ear – “Let’s eat our cookies now!”
Talk about spoiling the moment. I had to tell him the truth. I hung my head low, raised my hands to cover my eyes and cheeks and confessed that they were all gone. He was in shock!
“What do you mean they are gone?, he asked. “Did the kids eat them?”
“Um no, I did.” I said.
He thought I was kidding, especially the part about how I think I downed them all within a few minutes. It’s the whole *depravation of carbs* thing going on – it really messes with your mind and taste buds after while. Geez, I hope my Aztec Warrior Angels weren’t hanging around – I must have looked like an ugly rabid wild animal scarfing them all fast enough so I wouldn’t have to share them with anyone. What a raw fat girl confession this is. I should be horny on my anniversary, not hungry! Dr. Phil would have a field day with this situation!
Bottom line? No cookies tonight for my honey. But I think I’ll bake him some tomorrow to make it up. Home made is better anyways. I’ll just make SIX of the evil things and give them all to him. I won’t even let myself smell them or look at them! I’m not worthy!
But ya know? It’s actually not all my fault, I did tell him I was feeling naughty!
* All content/photos copyright, © Kathy Cano-Murillo, 2008.