Times, They Are A-Changing

When it comes to food, there are three types of people in this world: sweet-toothed people, salt-addicted people and pregnant women.

For the past 32 years, I have been an avowed salt addict. Dessert never interested me much, but a plate of nachos could leave me in a puddle of drool. I was the odd child who turned her nose up at cookies in favor of pickles. Every time.

During the summers, I went to day camp. Each day a kid was chosen to help the counselors pick out the daily snacks. Everyone dreaded when it was my turn. "Hey guys! Look what I got us! Watered down Kool-Aid and pretzel rods. Great, right?? Look, I know the other kids got fudge pops today, but who would want those when there are dry, salty pretzels to be had!?!?!"

I'm sure you can see where this post is going already...

About a month ago, I began to notice it. It started innocently enough. A cookie once in awhile or a sudden hankering for pie.

So I channeled this new-found desire into a positive outlet. I started eating yogurt with strawberries and began to devour bowls of cereal (things I passed up previously because you never knew when cheese and crackers or a salt lick might suddenly be available).

This was working...until the alien-child within started controlling my brain. Yes, she's not even born and I'm blaming her for everything.

Here's what happens:

*I* want a little piece of chocolate to satiate the itsy, bitsy, ever-so-tiny desire for a little something sweet.

The Bean hijacks my brain and says, "We should probably get some chocolate ice cream, with a little hot fudge on top and maybe put some chocolate chunks in it. While we're at it, why not add some peanuts, whipped cream, strawberry sauce and...what else do they have at this place...we'll take that too."

And it certainly doesn't help that Michael, notorious sweet-tooth, echoes The Bean's sentiments, but out loud. "You never want anything sweet. You should just treat yourself," all while writing out his detailed sundae order for me.

Little did he know, encouraging this only makes it worse.

You'd be surprised how conniving one can be when they don't want their indiscretions uncovered. For instance, last week Michael ordered a strawberry shortcake dessert, but then decided he was going to take it home and have it the next night.

This meant the strawberry shortcake would be spending the entire day with me at home. Alone. Unguarded.

Luckily, I was very good at geometry in school. A half inch from one side, then the next side, then the final two...and voila! Strawberry shortcake nearly imperceptibly smaller than the night before.

Finally, a real-world application of math I can get behind.