Thad and I had some friends over and as good hosts had wonderfully, scrumptious foods with all the calories, sugar, fat and carbs I could think of.  The friends brought their delicious contributions as well.  Between the preparing (I sample as I cook), the hosting (I confirm that it is edible), and then of course the cleaning up of the leftovers (wouldn’t want it to go to waste), I feel like a hippo trying to stuff myself into a girdle.  I gave some away but the devil on my left shoulder convinced me to wipe out the biscotti myself because they are just too good to pass up and I have forbidden Thad to make them again until Christmas.

Its not that I don’t exercise.  Thad & I bike, walk, or do exercise videos 6 days a week.  In addition, our daughter, Francesca is a personal trainer who puts us through our paces twice a week until we wonder if we were such terrible parents to be deserving of this much torture.   We think she stays up at night just to plan her attacks.

No, I exercise.  It’s just that I don’t exercise enough to eat the amount I’d like to and do.  Frankly, there aren’t enough hours in the day to compensate for what I ate this weekend.

But I have a plan.  We have a “Personal Trainer.”  Now we need a “Food Monitor.”  This person’s sole responsibility will be to slap the food out of my mouth whenever I put unhealthy (but oh, so delicious) foods in my mouth.

The next time you see me, I will no longer look like a hippo in a girdle but will be slender and radiate health.  That’s because my face, will be red from all the slapping.

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