|Me. With Cookie.|
Which totally might be true.
However, would you give a drowning man a cup of water?
Apparently, my friends would. Friday night was "Family Dinner" night, and I am willing to swear to you (and the rest of you can attest, since you all were there) that there were no less than 4 plates of cookies that showed up. Four.
Listen, when I meant that I still had some Christmas cookies hanging around, that means that my rear end is getting to the point where all I'd really like to do is wear sweatpants, and FOUR plates of cookies is NOT going to help, especially when I said that I have no self-control. People, please! Fat girl needs to bust a move here, not a dozen buttery rounds!
I did not eat a single cookie Friday night.
|No addiction here!|
When I say "I want a cookie," DON'T LISTEN TO ME!!!! Do you not see the destruction the self-portrait above is wreaking? Because yes, I live on Sesame Street, I just choose to not wear my blue muppet fur to my day job!
And you know what's the dumbest about this whole thing? I don't even LIKE cookies that much. OK, obviously, I do, because I eat them like the apocalypse is coming tomorrow, but given a choice between sweet and salty, I always go salty. It's just that when cookies are THERE... well, they get eaten.
The best solution for me is to not be around cookies.
Thank goodness Lent is coming.
In unrelated news, I totally missed my dentist appointment this morning...