For some kooky reason, I feel like I should keep poison out of my kitchen. Poison in my case, is anything that contains wheat. My cute husband wanted a cake for his birthday. I pretended to misunderstand him and bought two kinds of ice cream instead.
But, doncha know, I got the case of the guilts and made him a box of store bought brownies with a neato cream cheese swirl. Looked awfully pretty and considered the design while I licked my fingers. | Today I am feeling the effects of licked fingers. What was I thinking? Did he need brownies or a cake? Is he better off that I am sick with some really cute brownies? |
Turns out i wasn't thinking. I was cooking. I was loving my man and doing something natural.
Poison. yep, just about right | I am writing with a rainbow of colors because I am feeling a rainbow of misgiving. A rainbow of discomfort. A rainbow of pain. | I chose this life. I chose this path, and if I sound a little teensy bit defensive, well then, that's because I am defending my right to lick my fingers. |
But, durn it, getting things DUN! means being ready to get something done tomorrow, too. It means taking care of yourself. It means being conscious of yourself without being selfish. | no more poison in my kitchen! This I swear. Wasting food is a sin. |