I Know
I should not look a gift horse in the mouth, or be ungrateful, but when you leave the vacuum cleaner, broom and dustpan, windex, paper towels, and furniture polish all over the house, it is pretty obvious what you think of my housekeeping skills. That is okay - I will overlook the insult as long as you keep my kids. Even if you did stock my pantry with vanilla wafers, double stuff Oreos, two kinds of jelly with sugar (even though we had two sugar-free versions already), a tin of Hershey's kisses, Rice Krispies, and two new containers of pourable sugar (as opposed to the cheap bagged type I use). I mean, if I wanted my kids to eat that crap, it would probably be in the pantry already, but whatever. More with which Mama can sabotage her diet after 8 pm.
Seriously: I cringe at the thought of what has entered my children's mouths throughout the various times they have been taken care of by their grandparents. I know it will not kill them, and the free time is worth a cavity or two, but the worst part? I cannot physically bring myself to throw out those Oreos. A full bag? I cannot do it. They will sit there and slowly ruin my weight loss until Todd comes home on Saturday, when they will succumb to one of two scenarios: 1)Todd shows extreme willpower and kicks them to the curb. 2) Todd goes out for drinks with the boys, and then comes home, skulks around the kitchen as the rest of us sleep, then eats Oreos in one sitting with a peanut butter jelly sandwich.
I know this is our weakness, and not theirs. Why does it have to be so hard?
Labels: food, Grandparents, Motherhood, todd, weight
posted by Dogwood Girl @ 4:24 PM
12 comments
Subscribe to Dogwood Girl 
12 Comments:
I give you permission to throw those Oreos in the garbage. I'm a mom, so I can do that for you.
Or, take them to school for Rollie's class. Let the kids have a sugar high AND keep yourself safe from temptation.
I like the chocolate dipped ones. Typically when I come home drunk I like savory stuff more than sweets. Racoon gets in the kitchen and goes "shuffle shuffle".
Ah, steph. I understand where you are coming from, because I seem to recall that you are also a member of the parsimonious clean-the-plate club raising. It is only partially a disgust for waste that prevents me from tossing them - it is also partially the desire to eat them after dipping them in peanut butter with a glass of milk.
Holy Shit! Brian, is that you? are you reading this? I keep becoming surprised by people who are reading that I didn't know were readers. V. cool, but i am also surprised that people come out of hiding to comment on the oddest posts.
I, too, after drinking, would rather eat say, a burrito, left-over pizza, etc. Todd (a.k.a. the raccoon) most enjoys peanut butter on saltines. He never fails to leave a peanut buttery knife in the sink and I bust him out and then he does the raccoon shuffle.
Or, it could be the potential embarrassment when you get caught eating them out of the trash. Not that I've ever done that . . .
Exactly right about the clean-plate-club. So, if you give them away, you are immune from "wasting" or if you have permission, it's OK. Or, if you accidentally/on-purpose let them get wet so they are no good.
peanut butter on oreos? Ingenious!
I'll take them off your hands. We'll never buy em ourselves, but helping you out is the least we can do.
Pros never get caught eating out of the trash. Jason, come on by. they are yours. After I eat just one more.
Was it Todd's parents that left all of that stuff? I apologize on behalf of the family. ;)
Glad you guys had a fun trip to Orlando.
Lyle, I am saying nothing. I feel bad about writing it now. A little. :-)
Aren't Todd's parents not supposed to eat sweets? Hmmm..
We had fun. Todd is still there - till tomorrow.
Ya, it's me. I started reading your blog. It's quite enjoyable. Keep up the good work.
Thanks, Brian - do you have one? I would read it. And I know you are only reading so you can use the little nuggets you pick up against todd at a later time. Tell your girls hello for me!
you should fry those oreos....out of this world.
James, that is funny. I read your post, and I was mostly thinking, "he must not be from the deep South; That sounds like Grandma's Sunday dinner, not a once a year occasion." The twinkies are good, though. Hope y'all don't keel over from heart attacks this week.
Post a Comment
Tell me 'bout it, Stud. . .
<< Home