Not bad for a fat girl


The Evils of Mini Pumpkin Pies

I had to buy them. I was on my way to writing group, and I needed to bring a dessert. A quick stop at the grocery store was my best option, so I flew through the door in search of something sweet, easy to eat, and appealing. Near the front of the store I found them. A tray of mini pumpkin pies. Yes!

Not the real ones, but a reasonable representation.

Not the real ones, but a reasonable representation.

They actually looked more like mini pecan pies, since they had a nut topping, but the package assured me they were pumpkin. I bought them. I would have bought them if they’d been pecan too. I hurried off to my group, and put out my offering.

By the end of the evening, there were still quite a few little pies left. Not everyone likes pumpkin. There wasn’t a big crowd. Some people (um, like me) are trying to watch what they eat. No worries, I just put the top back on the package and brought them home. Big mistake.

I managed to resist their Siren Song this morning (how, I don’t know), and I even took the dog around the block for a walk. Yay me! But then, after work, things changed. I changed. I reverted to my old habits, and snarfed down several of those little monsters. I don’t know what crack is like (and yes, I realize I’m dating myself and I don’t care), but these little tiny pies must rival its appeal.

Long story short, the little bastards got me. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say I got them. The real kicker? They aren’t even all that good. I mean, if I’m going to sabotage my good intentions, I should at least do it with something wonderful, not a stinking’ mini pumpkin pie (or two, or three). Now, hopefully you’ll still feel a little compassion, or even empathy for poor little ‘ole me. Yes, I messed up, but I can learn from my experiences, especially the ones where I do things wrong. Maybe next time I’ll just leave the leftovers behind.