Gloo-Ton

I would love a world where everything was a smorgasbord and I could just have a little bit of everything. I read once where this woman lost like 100 pounds through the “3 bite rule”. She could eat ANYTHING she wanted – providing that she stopped at 3 bites. This would be great for me. 3 bites of toast, 3 of hash browns, 3 of the strawberry waffle, 3 of the chocolate chip one, 3 of eggs, 3 of ham, 3 of biscuits and gravy and I’m done. But that’s not the way the world is manufactured. To accomplish the above, I would order a whole meal plus another waffle, plus a half order of biscuits and gravy and heaven forbid I should want some grits.

The situation is further complicated and plunges into Shakespearean levels of tragedy by virtue of the fact  that my husband is for all intents and purposes greedy and wholeheartedly refuses to share food for any reason, ever. See, if he were to order a whole meal and I were to order an extra waffle and a half order of biscuits and gravy and if I were really jonesing for them, a small side of grits then I could have a taste of everything while retaining the ability to walk away when the meal concluded instead of being rolled away like the blueberry girl in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. 

Today I decided to escape housecleaning and dog nursing in order to go to Waffle House. I wanted all of the above, but was keenly aware that I could not eat all that by myself. Maybe if j^C were here to help, but that’s a moot point. I decided what I wanted most was a strawberry waffle. I should have stopped there, but I looked at the menu and realized that they also had chocolate chip waffles. “OK,” I said to myself. “People eat 2 waffles for breakfast – otherwise they wouldn’t have double listed on the menu. I’ll get a strawberry and a chocolate one!”

Cus that’s a good idea.

There were many ways to have avoided ordering 2 waffles. Choose one or the other. Have one with half strawberry and half chocolate. Have them make a hybrid strawberry/chocolate chip one. But no. I was a gloo-ton. I ordered 2 whole waffles. Waffles that were as big as the plates they were served on. Two, piping hot, sugar laden, carb disks. I didn’t even finish one of the sugary manhole covers and they misunderstood my request so they wound up both strawberry/chocolate chip hybrids anyway.

You know what the saddest part of this little escapade was. I don’t really like restaurant waffles. The first time I got a waffle at a Huddle House when I was a kid, they brought it to me and I was all like “What the hell is this? Take this soggy, limp thing back and bring me a waffle.” See, I had nothing but Eggo waffles for the first 10 or so years of my life, so crispy and small is good. By the by, why there isn’t a uniform Eggo waffle size isn’t a law I will never know. They don’t need to be a foot across.

Eggos are also not as sweet as restaurant waffles which is good since I really don’t even like sweet foods. I like fruit. Melon in particular. It’s my primitive monkey brain that thinks I do. It tells me “You are a female! Females like sweet and sugary and chocolaty! GO EAT THAT!!! MWAHAHAHAH!” Then, I eat some sweet and sugary and chocolatly thing and feel like crap. At this moment, a big bowl of various sundry melon reveals itself as the better choice, but now, of course, it’s too late. This is what is referred to as a FAIL. Moments like these are why I am going to someday lose a limb to diabetes.   I think Eggos are pretty much perfect. I could have saved myself a lot of time, money, carbs, sugar, calories, fat, gas, and energy by just buying a box at the Food Lion and being done with it.

I kind of just want to cry, but I might throw up since I am teetering dangerously close to both being overfull and slipping into a sugar coma. I guess the copious amounts of nearly black coffee I’m drinking will either snap me out of it or cause my heart to stop. At least I didn’t use any syrup. Here’s to small victories.