“Stop looking at me like that, Ritz cracker”

I am not sure when it started…I think with the goldfish.  I don’t even like goldfish, but would somehow find myself inhaling the orange dust after my son was done with them.  Then came the wheat thins, and the ritz crackers, and the triscuits, and, oh, the flavor blasted goldfish!  I grab that giant box ( you know the one, like a super-sized school milk carton?), sit down in front of the computer, and when I look back up, I find that I have possibly just eaten my carbohydrate allowance for one week, plus my family’s.  So tonight it was the Ritz crackers.  I opened one, cylindrical package, devoured it, then opened a second, telling myself that I would only eat a couple – What is it with us “telling ourselves” that we will only have one?  Who are we talking to anyways when we do that?  It’s like we’re asking permission from some hard-ass, drill-sergeant  version of ourselves who, should I eat more than a couple, would bust out, drop-kick me and put a choke-hold on me until I spit out that mushy cracker.  Having said that, I could probably have used the drill sergeant tonight…3/4 of a box later, and I am swimming in a sea of salt and bloat.

Sound familiar?

love,

Sabina