Lettuce Begin

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“It’s the most … wonderful time … of the year!”  Everybody, SING ALONG with me now!

Yes, I’ve come to that magical point in my familial calendar when, only two months after the celebratory burnout of Christmas and New Years, I can now look back in the rearview at both of my children’s birthday parties and say ‘BUH-BYE!’ to laser-tagged, pizza-stuffed, sugar-frenzied party tweens for yet another year.  I am done, people.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be taking a short break to dance around my living room in lederhosen … …

Thank you!

So, now that March break is in full swing, it means that warmer weather is just around the corner (if Mother Nature has stopped PMS-ing).  Which means it’ll be time to start shedding those extra layers of clothing pretty soon.  Which, for me, always means facing that extra layer of personal padding I put on each winter … because I’m Canadian, and that’s what we’re entitled to do by law.  Really, it’s in our Charter of Rights.

Since the word ‘dieting’ packs the inspirational punch of a lanced boil, I figured my best option for immediate results would be to just cut back on the mother load of carbs and sugar I’ve been mainlining for the past four months.  Oh, and to force gently nudge Andrew into doing it with me.  Strength in numbers.  Of course, his idea of portion control is not eating off of my plate (heaven forbid there should be any leftovers), which usually amounts to an entire second sitting once everyone else’s scraps have been reissued as well.

But he’s shown real restraint of late, particularly yesterday morning.  A friend of our daughter’s had stayed for a sleepover the night before and after we’d all enjoyed a mid-morning feast, the kids left the table seemingly well fed and happy.  Then as Andrew cleared the table, his willpower was put to the ultimate test:

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Having basically licked the pattern off our own plates, we could barely fathom how anyone could function on a nibble of toast and fruit fumes.  But kids have that knack for getting completely sidetracked from food when they’ve got better things to do with their time.

Damn kids.

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