Monday, April 18, 2011

Going off the sauce for good.

So, remember when I told you that embarrassing story about getting caught with my tongue in a container of McDonald's sweet and sour sauce? No? Well since I'm too lazy to find the link, I'll tell you again.

It was about four years ago and Will was just home from his last deployment--I can't remember now if it was home for good or home for his two weeks of R&R--doesn't matter. The point is, he had been gone for a long time and was finally home. And that meant that I got to go my doctor's appointment alone. I'd had to fast for the appointment, so I was starving by the time it was over. There was a McDonald's on the way home, so I went through the drive-thru and got some McNuggets. I know, gross. Whatever. I weighed 300 pounds and I was frigging starving. Food quality wasn't a high priority.

Anyway, I realized that not only did I get go to my appointment alone, but I was at McDonald's alone. No kids bugging me or fighting or spilling french fries on the back seat. So, rather than taking my McNuggets home where they would likely be pillaged by my children, I pulled into a parking spot and ate them in the blissful solitude of my childless van. And when they were gone, I might have licked the remaining sweet and sour sauce from the container. Honestly, McDonald's sweet and sour sauce is the only reason to order McNuggets in the first place. I'm pretty sure it's laced with crack.

And then you know how you sometimes get the feeling someone is watching you? Yeah, I got that feeling. And as I looked up, tongue firmly in the sauce container, I saw Marianne and her family waving at me from the parking spot next to me.

You know, I keep thinking that this story will get less embarrassing as time goes on, but apparently, not so much.

Anyway, fast forward to an hour ago. I felt my blood sugar start to drop rather quickly. In the time it took me to walk down my stairs, I was shaking and sweating and couldn't form a rational thought. Because if I had been able to form a rational thought, I'd have simply shoved a spoonful of plain old sugar in my mouth. Or guzzled some of the kids' apple juice. Or remembered the Starbursts I have stashed away for Easter baskets. But, as I said, I was beyond rational thought at that point.

I flung open my pantry and the first sugary thing I saw was some hot fudge sauce I'd bought for Ben's birthday. I popped the lid off and instead of grabbing a spoon from the drawer right next to me, I just started licking the sauce straight from the jar. And as my body started to recover and my brain function began to resume, I got that "someone is watching me" feeling. And I realized I was standing directly in front of my open sliding glass door. And my lawn guy was standing there, weed whacker in hand, watching me lick hot fudge straight from the jar like a crazed lunatic. (O.K., so that sounded way dirtier than it actually was. When I say weed whacker, I literally mean weed whacker. Pervs.) And so I stammered out something about low blood sugar but that I'm totally fine now! And then I ran upstairs and hid. Luckily I'd already taped his check to the door so I didn't have to talk to him.

And the best part? I just realized I have chocolate smeared on my chin and my cheek.


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