You know what's worse than being a teacher when you're trying to diet? Being a teacher on any day during the month of December when you're trying to diet. I was like Cookie Monster possessed this week. I've included a video...we'll call it Exhibit A. Notice how well Cookie Monster keeps it together. He is the epitomy of self-control...until the end of his cookie rap.
PS...This is EXACTLY how it went. Cookies were flying everywhere. I kept it together through the 28 sacks of goodies, lovingly baked by parents and students, that found their way to my desk. I took one look at the plethora of gingerbread boys, peppermint fluffs and homemade toffee and whisked it downstairs to the maintenance guys (who love me now, by the way). But on Monday, it all came crumbling down. It happened during our staff Christmas party, when a plate of homemade and beautifully frosted sugar cookies walked into my life. The magic ingredient was the subtle hint of orange zest...but it might as well have been crack. I looked like an offensive left tackle, knocking people to the ground as they tried to make a play for my cookies. At least one person walked away from that party with carpet burn. But wait, there's more. More of those damn cookies came to work yesterday and hung out on my co-worker's desk. They weren't mine, but I ate those, too. I just grabbed them and ran out the door, stuffing them in my mouth before she could take them back.
Who's sorry now? Each one must have been 1,000 calories. Because I'm up 4 1/2 pounds from my 16 pound weight loss glory. UGH!
Saturday, December 19, 2009 at 12:24AM
Reader Comments (3)
I feel your pain! Been there for sure!
I love the cookie monster. That's how we eat at my house - but we call it feed-bagging like a horse that gets a bag of foot strapped over it's nose and keeps eating till the bag is empty. It happens a lot with kettlecorn bags.
I love the cookie monster. That's how we eat at my house - but we call it feed-bagging like a horse that gets a bag of foot strapped over it's nose and keeps eating till the bag is empty. It happens a lot with kettlecorn bags.