As I wait, starving, heating up my baked chicken and rice leftovers (marred by the presence of a half a wilted sweet potato), you mock me.
You call to me from atop the fridge, "Here I am! Salty, fried, decadent goodness! You've had a long day. Spouse is away on a business trip. Child is in bed. No one will know. You deserve me. You only have to eat one, then you can stop."
But oh, I know I cannot stop at one. The commercial speaketh the truth.
I try to resist you, but resistance is futile.
The crummy leftovers take forever to warm in the microwave. I think I can hold out for the 34 seconds remaining.
But no, I cannot.
I open you, tentatively, telling myself, "Yes, I will just eat one." But I know, the voice inside me knows, and my id, superego and ego have all joined together to taunt me. "WE KNOW YOU WILL NOT STOP AT ONE."
"Foo," I say. "I will stop. Yes, I will!"
But it is true. I have no self control.
I tear open the bag, eat 2 chips, and proceed to eat approximately 58 more.
I feel ill. But now the microwave, and my lukewarm leftovers, summons me.
I eat my meal in silent shame. (You thought I wouldn't have room, didn't you?)
Oh Potato Chip Bag, how I hate you. I blew all my Weight Watcher points.
I disgust myself.
3 comments:
I am laughing out loud.
I have my own version: "Ode to the Chocolate Chip Bag in the Freezer."
'nuff said.
Came over from sweet pea chef. Oh, how true this is. I would laugh if not for the fact that this has happened to me before and it caused me to be disgusted at myself as well. Come visit and check out this posting. I think you'll appreciate it.
http://stephscafe.blogspot.com/2008/05/phat-tuesdays-at-my-house.html
or, as a haiku:
potato chip bag
how you tempt me from up there
damn, my points are gone
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