Ooey gooey chewy phooey

There's a phrase I hear now and then when somebody does something they knew they shouldn't do. The phrase is "the devil made me do it."

Well, I can't blame the devil or any of his cronies for my behavior last night. We had friends staying with us from out of town, and had a wiener roast. For desert we roasted marshmallows. Whatever possessed me, I went crazy with those marshmallows. First I put three on the stick and roasted them brown and crispy on the outside, ooey gooey on the inside. The fire was just perfect for creating the perfect roasted marshmallow. But when does ooey gooey chewy warm and wonderful become "I have a belly ache" and "Where do I toss my cookies" (or rather, marshmallows)? I can tell you. The number is 29.

It started out with a harmless trio of the white puffy delicacies on the stick. A marshmallow isn't a delicacy until it's roasted, though, which takes time and your attention. You don't want it turning into a burnt sacrifice. At least I don't like them burnt. But it was a social thing, so I didn't stop at three. At least I reduced it to two marshmallows at a time, and later, one at a time.

There's something fascinating about roasting marshmallows over a fire, when the sun is going down, and you are with good friends. Sally was keeping up with me, although I don't know that she ate 29.  I said, "There are only 25 calories in two of them, so you can eat eight for a hundred calories." She said, "Well, it's worth it."

I had to let her know today that I was wrong. I'd checked the bag. They are 25 calories each. Let's see, 29 times 25... I don't even want to know.

But they were good. Wonderfully delicious, even though the last ten weren't as good as the first 19. Still, it was no excuse. There is absolutely no excuse for pulling such a stunt. I have no idea how much damage I did. Of course I'm avoiding the scale for the next couple of days.

My thought, over and over last night as I was laying in bed, "Why do I do this?" And I don't know if I'll ever know why. I'm hoping I can still salvage the week, even though I've had three disastrous days in a row. I really dread my monthly weigh-in on Thursday.