Today I ate poptarts and pickles for lunch. No, I'm not pregnant, which would be the only resonable explanation. This is particularly disheartening because I think poptarts are disgusting ridiculous excuses for a meal.* There is nothing nutritionally redeeming about them. They are 200 calories per "pastry." Just eat two Hershey chocolate bars instead and be done with it. What about the fruit filling? Ha, fruit filling. That's just sugar, corn syrup, and red die #42.
But I ate them for lunch because I am a textbook stress-eater. I actually did have Hershey bars in my pantry and chose "strawberry" poptarts instead. (What is wrong with me?) Cate was in the middle of the second half-hour of a screaming fit, and my will power was gone. To make matters worse, she kept hollering pitiful mid-sob phrases like, "I don't feel good!" or "I'm so hungry!" or "I can't walk!"
Let me respond to each of those exclamations in kind:
1) I don't feel good.
Me: (looking very sympathetic and maternal): What doesn't feel good? (checking for fever)
Cate: (sniff, sniff, sob) My finger naaaaail!!
So I'm pretty sure she was faking it.
2) I'm so hungry.
If you would stop holding my leg and blocking my path to the refrigerator for half a second, I would have lunch ready a helluva lot faster. Also, you had a snack an hour ago. Just sayin'.
3) I can't walk.
Yes, you can.
To make matters worse, Eli started imitating her, (fake) crying and saying pitiful things. Only, he hasn't exactly mastered the heart-string-tugging manipulation tactics like Cate, so he just whined, "I don't like penguins."
Honest to God this really happened in my kitchen today. I am not embellishing a single thing.
Why the pickles? BECAUSE I had wasted 400 calories on nasty pastries and I was still hungry. And pickles are low-calorie and scrumptious, of course.
*Except for the brown sugar cinnamon poptarts. Those are delicious.