By Mary McPadden
The bulging, jiggling folds of flesh oozed out from the tight spandex bathing suit. Trying on my summer swimsuit was torture and I felt like I was in an endless nightmare.
Suddenly I regretted the late night bags of salty chips, the creamy vanilla cookies, the tart lemon cream pie and the rich creamy flowing chocolate of the fondue fountain rented for my son’s graduation.
I regretted the sweet sausage and peppers smothered in sauce and the extra large steak with sweet onions and buttery mushrooms I had eaten with the baked potato swimming in salted butter and sour cream.
And I regretted that French restaurant my husband and I went to on our anniversary where the waiter kept insisting we try the sweet crepes and the and the crispy creme brulee.
I knew I should have been better about what I ate this past winter. I wasn’t looking forward to this warmer weather where it gets so hot and you have to strip off all your clothes just to try to stay cool. Finally all the snacking and lying to myself about how I looked had caught up to me.
Then I thought about all those skinny ladies at the pool and how whenever I would be snacking on my crackers and sweets, they would be eating their apples.
Of course I regretted but what was I really going to be able to do now? I couldn’t magically lose 50 pounds. It seemed hopeless. Then I said to my husband “What am I going to do now?”
My husband replied, “Honey, can we talk about this over the ice cream sundaes I just made us?”