“The most serious charge which can be brought against New England is not Puritanism, but February.”
-Joseph Wood Krutch
“Oh thank God it’s February!” Said no one-EVER. Especially not in Connecticut. It can make the happiest of us scowl and shake our fists in the air as the snowflakes fall around us. A normal dialogue in my house goes like this: “Babe, hope you have nothing planned- the Weather Channel says it’s going to snow Sunday night, a Nor’Easter on Wednesday and ice is coming Saturday.” My husband likes to broadcast these little weather updates to me to watch my head spin. So, no school for our kids Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and I won’t be able to make it to the pool at the YMCA where I swim for my sanity. Fabulous. I guess that means I will just stay home and eat a dozen muffins.
Muffins. Valentine’s candy, Bread and chocolate. The devil self-talk begins:
Um…why don’t my pants fit?
Don’t worry, just drink more water. Here, have some cake to go with it.
Do I have to give up butter?
Hell, no! In fact, there’s a fresh baguette in the kitchen just waiting to be slathered with butter, warmed in the oven and then topped with chocolate chips.
So I did. I ate. I cursed at the snow. I read. A LOT. None of these things is bad separately, together they are a tidal wave of destruction. The tidal wave met me in my closet for a Pre-Spring Fashion Show. The skinny model didn’t show up. Instead there was Muffin Top girl. Who let her in here?
Damn you Weather Channel!
There was only one thing to do: buy a scale. I hate them, with their little smug numbers. Who do they think they are anyway? Just as the SAT’s cannot ascertain a person’s intelligence, so cannot a scale determine a person’s attractiveness or splendor!
I railed all the way to Target. Just me and my yoga pants.
But nonetheless, a scale now sits on my bathroom floor and I dream.
I dream of Spring and little cupcakes with icing…CARROTS! I dream of carrots.
Really, I do.