First of all, the brownies were pretty darn good. They were chocolaty and nutty and crusty on the edges. They were dense and rich and I am a better person for eating them. They were so good, in fact, that I didn’t share them. I couldn’t share them. I tried…sort of. I cut four big ones to take to my neighbors. I got out the plastic wrap and set it on the counter. I even changed out of my pajamas and brushed my hair. But then I chickened out and said that I would do it tomorrow. I convinced myself that tomorrow was a better day. I thought that a sunny day would be better for this task and this day was a little gray. I thought that maybe I should take a shower before going to someone’s house and that surely wasn’t going to happen on this day. I kid you not; I came up with every lame excuse possible. It was laughable, really. My husband called from work and asked if I had accomplished my goal. I thought about doing the old “what?…I can’t hear you…I’m going through a tunnel right now…I’m probably going to lose you” trick, but my silence gave me away. He chuckled in that I-told-you-so tone.
This giving thing is harder than it looks.
The next day, my husband went to Costco and brought home enough Ghirardelli brownie mix to feed the American troops. I guess he thinks I need a lot of practice. By the end of the box, I’ll either be good at giving, good at baking, or good at eating brownies. I might have to change the title of this blog to How to Lose Weight and Kick a Sugar Addiction. There might be a brownie intervention in my future.
So, next week, I will try, try again.