Diet Is A Dirty Word

The house has been cleaned thanks to a girl who is hoping for some mall spending money and a brief moment of guilt that found me relaxing in the a/c with a new book while the husband is out in this ridiculous heat. As a result, the counters are spotless, the floors shine, all furballs have been vacuumed, and stray papers have been tossed. That all should last until about six o'clock tonight, or until the oldest finishes nuking his mac-n-cheese.

After tonight I will once again be a married woman. My wedding rings have been hidden away at the jewelers awaiting a re-sizing that has been a few years in the making. A couple of weeks ago, my husband got tired of seeing me without a wedding band and promptly hauled me (and the rings) to the jewelry store. In the past eighteen-plus years, my ring size has increased and it got to the point where I could no longer just blame it on periodic swollen fingers. My ring finger was measured (no wonder they didn't fit anymore), a new diamond selected (the husband's idea, I promise), and the bill was paid (while he looked the other way).

Of course, that was the same week the same husband lost his job.
Timing is everything, isn't it?
At least we have a ring to pawn if we need to.

Ha! Like that would ever happen. Other things would go first. I'm thinking every electronic gadget for starters (sorry kids), but like I tell the family, let's not dwell on such things now. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. At any rate, tonight is the night we pick up the rings. I told him he would have to put them on my finger and mean it this time (another joke). The original plan was to have a nice dinner out. Now we're thinking more along the lines of a shared gyro and fries at the food court in the mall. It's all about priorities.

House payment.
Electric bill.
Then maybe we can eat.

Speaking of eating, what is about a clean house that makes one kid want to cook while another eats chips in the living room? I would say something, but I'm thinking of coffee and cake and my cozy spot on the couch. Yeah. That's the ticket. Coffee with rich creamer and a piece of butter cake slathered with chocolate frosting while thinking about a set of rings that no longer fit. Hey, at least I see things for how they are: I'm not afraid of the truth; I'm just slow to react to it sometimes.

I won't think about that today.
I'll think about that tomorrow.
Wasn't I suppose to be starting a spin class sometime?

Now the house no longer smells lemony fresh. There's a strange, toxic mixture of the beforementioned mac-n-cheese and doritos now combined with the distinct odor of ramen noodles. Can somebody please crank up the Glade Plug-Ins? When does school start? Drat these kids who always want to eat.

Wait a minute...

I think I was going for a piece of cake.