Damn Charlie making me a chocolate cake for Mother's Day.
Notice I'm not even putting it on a small plate anymore. I'm eating it right off the plate that my husband frosted it on. This is the reason I can't have sweets in the house. I am absolutely, positively weak and lack ALL self control when it comes to chocolate.
The kids had an afternoon snack of pretzels, apples and mozzarella cheese sticks. I ate this when they weren't looking. I'm due to run a marathon in less than three weeks. So not only am I the model of good health, I am the model of an obsessive compulsive closet eater.
I'm an enigma wrapped in a paradox.