I have a major sweet tooth. It is very hard for me to pass up a dessert. And I am blessed with a fairly high metabolism. So I can get away with a cookie here and a piece of cake there. But this has been the Month of Cake in our house. We had three birthdays in October, and last weekend my 6-year-old and I won a cake in the cakewalk at church (we had an All Saints/Reformation "This Is Your Grandfather's Church" party). Evan picked it out for the way it looked on the outside, but then decided he didn't like the inside (it's a lemon-flavored cake). I, on the other hand, like it very much. And I have slowly been making it disappear.
This is not good. Saturday Evan will get together with some of his friends for a belated birthday party (he was sick on his actual birthday last week, but we still had a family cake). So that means yet another cake is coming--the fifth to come through our front door in a month. Thanksgiving and Christmas are only weeks away, as is the likelihood not only of holiday meals and parties but of multiple edible gifts from the wonderful people that my husband and I work with in church and community music ensembles. I don't have the money to go out and buy all new clothes. There are already a number of things in my closet that I am avoiding these days because I dread trying to squeeze into them. Thank goodness for stretchy jeans (I never, ever thought I would say that). But I have got to quit eating.
And yet . . . dark chocolate truffles from Trader Joe's, chocolate covered raisins from the Girl Scouts, French Silk pie from Market Day, homemade pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving (which no one in the house eats but me), egg nog, Bailey's Irish cream, Christmas cookies . . . they're all coming. Sigh. What is a dyed in the wool sweet tooth with no self-control to do?
*Name that allusion.