On how the apple pie poked fun of me

The pie wasn’t devoured on Thanksgiving Day.  My neighbor brought over two other desserts that far outweighed my apple pie endeavor.  We chose to inhale those desserts over the former.  At the time it was the right choice.  Berry pie warm out of the oven and gingerbread pumpkin pie beat out my apple pie.  Rightfully so.

As I type this, the disposal has just been turned off.  The apple pie I baked for the Thanksgiving weekend of gluttony is now down the drain.    My battle with leftover apple pie had been keeping my mind occupied since Saturday.  I was losing ever so slowly.  A nibble at it here.  A nibble there. 

It kept tempting me. 

Calling me. 

Mocking me. 

Luring me.

Patronizing me.

And it was in the freezer.

Nibble.  Nibble.  Nibble.

That pie.  A true bastard.

It’s a f-ing pie for goodness sake and it was nudging me over to the dark side.  Like Satan calling for one last temptation. 

I don’t want to be stuffing myself into my holiday wardrobe so I shoved the frozen pie down the disposal, and as I watched the last crumb tornado down into the belly of the beast, I laughed back at it.  I also might have given it the bird; a gesture I found appropriate adjacent to the days post Thanksgiving. 

Little battles win this war.  This was definitely a tough battle, and I put on my armor to help protect me (read: new dress from Shabby Apple).  Anything tighter would have had a button popping off or a zipper not being able to zip up.  Tragedy would have struck and I would have been brought to my knees heaving and crying in defeat.  Throwing my over-stuffed apple pie eating body onto the floor flaying my arms in a toddleresque tantrum.  Totally acceptable behavior for a girl of middle thirty-somethingdom.  But, none of that happened.  Because, there is a God and he’s helping to watch over me.  And my waistline, apparently.

AmericanBridget: 1. 

Apple Pie: 0.

After re-reading this post I realize how pathetic I sound.  But, I don’t care.  My sweet tooth (what’s left of them afterSatan’s Tooth Wizard friend ripped them out of my head) always gets the best of me.  Always. 

Now, as the last crumb is traveling through various tributaries to the sanitation department I’m off to jog 3 miles in the chilly weather.   Sans the extra pie on my ass.

And then to eat the fresh veggies for a post-run snack.

I’ll beat this.

Yes I will.