Saturday, July 7, 2012
Day 321: We Tilt, We Whirl, We Eat Corn Dogs*
We met up with Sexy Em and HoneyBear, and Li'l Martini was in heaven; he and his besty were inseparable for the next three hours. I usually purchase a ride pass for myself but didn't this year, which was a mistake; I only went on the Tilt-a-Whirl (my fave!) and the bumper cars once, and then the kids used all my tickets to go on the bumper cars themselves, and I was done. Mimosa gamely went on rides by herself, and she allowed me to play the role of "her friend" for an hour, but she was ready to go by 3:00, so she and I left with Sexy Em, and Husband stayed with the boys (who would still be there, if we'd let them).
Next year, I'll ride more rides — and I'll be even thinner and fit into them better. That will be cool.
Martini's having a sleepover at HoneyBear's; Mimosa and I went to Summer Shack, one of "our" places that no one else in the family likes, and had catfish and hushpuppies and an oyster po' boy and interesting salads, and it was scrumptious. My weight may well be up tomorrow, but it was worth it. And I know I'm really down by at least two pounds - I've finally broken through my plateau!
We came home and watched Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and I mended Senor Scary, the wrestling dummy my mom made for Martini as his graduation present. Senor Scary has seen a lot of action over the past few weeks, and he needed my help desperately. I hope my stitches hold up.
I think that is all of today's news.
Hmm, now I'm a little bummed that tomorrow's weigh-in might not reflect this week's good efforts — undone by fried oysters and remoulade sauce. Maybe I should go do deep knee bends for half an hour or something . . .
* Technically, I did not eat a corn dog. Instead, I ate a grilled sausage with onions . . . because the corn dogs weren't ready yet. But corn dogs are my iconic carnival food. I guess the good news is that once I'd eaten my sausage (and had a small soft-serve ice cream cone) I was full and satisfied and had no urge to cram in a corn dog. In the past, I've eaten as many as four (and felt quite stuffed and sick afterward, natch). So — progress? Yay?