Weight of the Matter

  The other morning I was making an attempt to enjoy some breakfast with my two daughters.  Every time my can came close to hitting the chair I would notice there was something I'd forgotten to bring to the table or my three year old would pipe up.  "Mom, I wanted juice, not milk,  mom, I wanted a sippy cup not a regular, mom I wanted pink not green , mom, I need a fork AND a spoon."  Ready to blow, but smart enough not to tell her to do it herself, which would tack on another fifteen minutes,  I began to wonder how we moms manage to struggle with weight issues when we can't even sit down to a meal.   Add the rest of the family in at dinnertime to make it an official circus.
    But somehow, along the way, my plate gets cleared.  Not only the first serving, but the second. Maybe not nice and toasty warm as is the preferred method of consumption, but definitely edible to a not so fussy palate. 
    Then, the family wanders away from the table and I glance at the plates left behind, ready to call each child back to clear their spots.  But I notice that some of those plates have the best stuff left behind, and that should not be wasted on chicken food.  So out comes my fork, and  I begin spearing a little of this and a dab of that and shoveling it in, until all plates are cleared to my satisfaction .
    Huffing a sigh at the thought of clean up waiting in the kitchen, I get to my feet and wander there to take a peek at what is left over.  One dish reveals a salad that would surely go soggy if stored overnight, so I grab the serving spoon and polish it off.  After all, have you SEEN the prices at the grocery store? No sense in wasting.  The next pot is showing only a couple spoonfuls left, so it doesn't pay to take the time to put it in a storage container. Down the hatch is much more convenient.  And on and on it goes.
     In between my cleaning up , I feel the need to sneak in something sweet, and I know there just happens to be a bag of m&m's in the baking cupboard.  For baking purposes only, but a couple handfuls gone missing won't be noticed.  Until the same hand hits the bottom of the bag. Oh well,  chocolate chips will work just as good.
     Finally, all the dishes are cleared up and washed up.  That calls for a coffee break.  The cake left over from the "just in case there is company" baking would be just the thing to go with a good cup of decaf.
    So I take my coffee and cake with just a "couple" scoops of ice cream and go sit down next to my dear sweet husband, and ask him the question that has been burning in my mind all day, "Honey, why can't I seem to lose any weight??"