While I like to believe that I am a healthy-eater (pre-preg and currently), I tend to have what some may describe as "self-control issues" that range from serious to quite serious, especially when it comes to sweets since I've become pregnant. For instance, last night after our random (yet reasonably healthy) dinner of leftover chili, plantains, and a pear, I waited a standard amount of time (~45 minutes) before requesting my "treat." Fiji retrieved the leftover brownies from the previous night's dinner at a friend's house. There were 4 brownies left. Now, granted, a couple were what I would consider to be "small." I would draw the approximate size for you, but I suck at drawing. (And painting and watercolor, if you wanted to know.) ANYWAY. I had one. And then shortly after I had another. But that was where I drew the line. Two for me, two for the boy. That's fair. FINE, mine were the bigger ones. But he doesn't care. Honest (right, babe?).
After we finished watching the DVR'ed (yes, we're still in love) episode of Mad Men, my eyes started to wander back to those remaining two brownies. Was I hungry? Not really. But the desire to eat them was growing and they were just sitting there taunting me. Fiji wasn't making any indication that he was going to eat his share and I was so distracted by those little chocolate chip goodies that I could literally feel my will-power shrinking by the minute. When Fiji got up to fill his water, I took that as my chance and just WENT AFTER IT. My main goal was to get the brownie down without Fiji noticing, which was clearly my first mistake. (Or, well, my second. My first was probably eating the brownie in the first place. MOVING ON.) I basically stuffed that thing in my mouth without even enjoying it! GAH. And of course, OF COURSE, Fiji turns around probably when he hears the commotion and plastic bag rustling, just to see what I've gotten myself into. I am such a child. I immediately stop chewing and do a little closed-mouth smile at my kind husband as if to say, "Nothing to see over here. Avert your pretty little gaze!" He, of course, instantly knows something is up. And pretty much instantly knows WHAT exactly it is that is up. I'm eating his brownie. He's calling me out before he even gets back to the couch, "Didn't think I would notice?!" I'm laughing so hard with a mouthful of brownie that I can barely contain it. The brownie, that is. I want to keep all of that deliciousness in my mouth, after all. I am forced to bow my head and turn away, ashamed.
And then I had a stomach ache (AND complained about it!) for the rest of the night.
Lesson learned: two brownies is more than enough.