For me, the dread of impending birthdays has rarely been about the number of candles on the cake. But rather about the number of pounds on the scale. Ridiculous, I know. But thus is the mind of a yo-yo dieter.
This year I am actually okay with the scale:) Last year I was too. The months in between were a weight roller-coaster that I will not dwell on. (Been there, gained that, dieted again.) And actually, I’m not dwelling on the scale either. Or my weight.
But I am still thinking about dieting. Specifically, I am thinking about cheating. And I have been thinking about this for months now. It’s my birthday and I’ll have cake if I want to… I sing to myself. But I don’t want cake. Well… I do want cake, cake is yummy. But I don’t want leftovers. I want to enjoy my birthday cheat treat and then get back on track. I can’t do that if the cake sits for days on my kitchen counter screaming at me to eat more and more and more…
So I wondered if I wanted a cupcake instead. Not 24 cupcakes baked at home. But one decadent cupcake from the new bakery in town that specializes in these little morsels of goodness. With extravagantly flavored frosting. One for me, one for each of my family members. No muss, no fuss, no leftovers.
Or maybe I want something less birthday traditional. Who says it has to be cake? I can just about taste chocolate fondue as I write about it. Warm and sweet and decadent. I can dip strawberries, my favorite combination. And bananas. And pineapple. And, yes, a few little cubes of pound cake. And my boys can happily join in with their own dipping: marshmallows and other sickeningly sweet things that don’t tempt me at all. (Chocolate brownies in chocolate fondue is too much even for this chocoholic.) Dessert on a stick. Playing with my food. Fun.
But then I read a review of a new gelato place. Like ice cream, only healthier. And they will put up to five flavors in one cup. For an indecisive birthday splurger, the option to choose five flavors sounds very tempting. And maybe it will be a nice warm day that just cries out for a frozen treat.
Decisions, decisions. A splurge of my choosing… ah the pressure to make it a good one. Worth the cheat. Worthy of the day.
Now, what do I want for dinner?