Sweet Setbacks

I miss you, ice cream. Come back to me, cupcakes. And don’t even get me started on Girl Scout Cookies; I can’t turn a corner in the office w/out bumping into thin mints and tagalongs (my absolute FAVORITE). I gave sweets the boot for Lent this year, but there’ve been some slight setbacks.

Last weekend, B and I went to Mohegan Sun for a Dropkick Murphy’s concert and overnight stay that he won via Twitter (thanks @BostonTweet!). It was a grand ol’ time. The hotel was beautiful, the seats were awesome and the Murphy’s did what they did best: diffuse fist-fights on the floor when a crowd-goer has a heart attack and causes minor delays (no, I’m not even joking).

After the concert, B and I were walking around the massive casino grounds to get a feel for the nightlife. We passed a Ben & Jerry’s and B asked if I felt like ice cream. Let’s get one thing straight: I always feel like ice cream. B doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, so hearing him suggest we get ice cream was like, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! I was hesitant but B reasoned that it was almost midnight, which meant it was almost Sunday, which meant I could in fact indulge in sweets since Sundays aren’t included in the 40 days. My shallow resolve gave way and we shuffled into the lengthy line. It was totally worth it. They had frozen Greek yogurt, which was delish! (and since I didn’t shun Greek yogurt, I figured this hardly counted as breaking my Lenten vow)

This past Saturday, we were at a friends’ house for some St. Paddy’s Day festivities. I was doing well staying away from the grasshopper-esque (the cookie, not the bug) platter until the board games started and we moved from the kitchen to the living room. They cookie tray was set down right in front of me, and instead of moving them to the side like a normal person, I stared at them longingly for about an hour until I finally caved and hoarded three one. It was late Saturday night, so I was following B’s logic from last weekend.

Yesterday, which was actually Sunday, was gorgeous. Clear, sunny and low-70 degree temperatures made for a record breaking turn-out at the parade (I’m just assuming; I had no desire to be anywhere near Southie this weekend). B, my sister Beth, and I went to a nearby park to kick around a soccer ball and relish the warm weather. We were lounging around on a blanket when I had the undeniable urge for some ice cream. Beth gave up chocolate for Lent, but I knew I could convince her since it was Sunday. After lunch, we headed to Cold Stone Creamery to wait in a long-ass line; apparently Cold Stone decided to schedule only one surly teenager to handle the Sunday afternoon shift (for those of you who snub Cold Stone b/c it’s too pricey, I’m normally right there w/ you - our three orders came to a whopping $22 and some change. But at this time of year, local ice cream shops aren’t open yet, and you have to cough up the cash).

I’m not proud of these moments of weakness, so I figured writing them down would hold me accountable and deter me from doing it again next Sunday.

As I’m walking to work this morning, I see a line out the door of a formerly vacant building. Crumbs has opened in Boston! Literally steps away from my office. And they’re having a buy-one, get-one promo for their first two weeks. God certainly has a twisted sense of humor.


Stephy Marie said…
I wish I were allergic to sweets because I could never live without them! I'm glad I'm not the only one :)