Like many new moms I have been wanting to zap off some that baby weight that seems to cling stubbornly to the body like the same baby that is now out of the uterus but doesn’t seem to think so. It just always seems to be that last ten pounds. And so, recently, I went on a diet. Oh yes I did.
I went on a diet and was doing really well on it. I immediately lost about three and a half of my ten pounds I thought I needed to lose. Only six and a half left to go and I would be at my pre-pregnancy weight. It didn’t matter that I was going to bed hungry at night, right? I exaggerate a little, I wasn’t hungry every night — just at the beginning.
And then I got sick. Oh, I was so sick! Finally, my mom told me I needed to have more calories so that I could get better. My mom, who was a big advocate of my diet, told me to get eat a cheeseburger. Frankly, I was so nauseated I couldn’t even fathom eating anything at that point but for once I listened to my mom. My husband went off to the Del Taco on the corner and brought home the biggest cheeseburger they had.
Confession: I love cheeseburgers. I really love cheeseburgers.
I sat in bed that night and ate an enormous cheeseburger, with bacon, and I don’t think I ever had one that tasted better than this. I do believe even my arteries were sighing in happiness to have this moment all to themselves. Of course, I was still sick, but I didn’t care. I was able to shove aside the feelings of nausea and allow myself to be seduced by cheese. I can’t say it was close to a sexual experience because I’m not kinky like that, but I am sure my tastebuds were feeling like they had witnessed live porn.
I fell asleep full that night, with my Fighter T-cells rubbing their bellies and preparing for war. I fell off the wagon in regards to my diet, but in return I was healed by a cheeseburger.