oh fudge

Mom and Dad recently drove through Amarillo, Texas and visited the restaurant famous for their 72 ounce steaks.

Turns out they also make fudge.

Mom brought me home a box that holds six pieces, minus three pieces. Naturally, the first thing I asked (after I said thanks of course) was where are the other three pieces lady?

Now I'm really glad there were only three pieces. And it is entirely obvious to me the reason Mom gave me the box was she has more willpower than I and was trying to get rid of the last three pieces before she ate them. Thanks.

A couple of weeks ago there was the "Eat This Not That" book incident that featured the picture of the KFC bowl. I thought "that looks pretty tasty" but I did manage to resist temptation. The last time I craved KFC, Nate was residing in my uterus. The picture book did influence me to get another book of top-secret recipes and make my own Chili's Chocolate Chip Paradise Pie, rated the worst dessert (health-wise) in America - the equivalent of three Big Macs.

Stupid books. T.V. and magazines have got to be better for you - they just make me want to buy clothes. And make-up. And shoes. And purses. And jewelry. That's it.

Fast-forward to this morning on my Starbucks run. No breakfast and I had waited far to long to get coffee into my system after too few hours of sleep. Then I started to feel it in the car.

Morning sickness.

What is wrong with me??? Does that explain the fudge and the chicken desire and all the tears?

Nope. It was just an air freshener.

When I was pregnant with Nate, as much as I loved KFC, I loathed Apple Jack & Peel potpourri. I had the stuff in my house, and it made me sick. I had to throw it away. To this day I can't stand the smell of it.

Turns out, one of the kids had made an air freshener at VBS last night and hung it in the car. Apple Jack& Peel strikes again! Those kids are always making me sick.

Thank goodness that's all it was. Babies come and go, but morning sickness - that's forever.

And it turns out there was another reason for eating the fudge and the tears and the mood swings. And it's definitely not a baby.