So apparently I have absolutely no control over myself when birthday cake is around. And we had plenty of it around this weekend.
It was a Birthdaypalooza for Miss Sophia, who turned 7 on Sunday. Friday was her party, and of course there was cake (she had a blast--said it was the best party ever). And then on Sunday, Mark got up at 6 a.m. to drive to the Donut Bank Bakery to buy her another cake, because of course there has to be cake on the day of her birth.
I think between the two, I probably ate an entire 1/4 sheet cake. And I'm not kidding.
Cake is one of my trigger foods. And birthday cake especially because, Hey, It's birthday cake! And I only get birthday cake once in a while! And if I don't eat this now, then well will I get it again? Not for months and months! So eat it eat it eat it!!!
I threw out the remains of the cake last night, and took the garbage bag directly to the curb because, seriously? I could have pulled a George Costanza and gone back to the trash can to eat any unsullied cake in a weak moment. Cake is my kryptonite.
Yes, I know, I have a problem. And cake is not the answer.
It's back to normal now, and no one else in the family has a birthday until the end of July. Which is a good thing because it's probably going to take me 2 months to get over the damage I did this weekend.