cupcake2

I know I should be mortified.  I should be disgusted with myself.  I know these things, and yet I feel nothing but satisfaction.  Maybe this is how Taylor Swift feels whenever she puts out a new album.  (Sidebar:  I secretly like most of her songs, but I will never publicly admit it.  She’s just a country girl looking for love.) Anyway, back to me, where the focus should always be.  (That rhymes.)

I ate an entire container of mini cupcakes.  Impressed?  You should be.

Granted, it wasn’t in one sitting, but it was within a 24 hour period, which I find both depressing and exciting.  The fat girl in me is proud of the accomplishment while the skinny girl in me is horrified and repulsed.  Fortunately, the skinny girl in me is squashed and practically crushed by the fat girl, so she can shut the frick up and keep her opinions to herself.  (She also needs to eat a ham sandwich.)

I’m saying this is a good thing and I don’t care what skinny people say…not even my husband.

I didn’t do this tonight, but did it about 2.5 weeks ago.  As my loving blog followers know, I recently had surgery and had evil Stan the gallbladder removed.  That’s a pretty big deal, or at least that’s what I’m telling my husband.  I don’t ever want to move anything, lift anything, or carry anything ever again so I’m going to ride this surgery into the ground…or at least ride it to the store where I will stay in the car while he runs in to get milk because “I’m just so weak.”  This whole surgery thing is a built in excuse for life…or at least for a few months.

Either way, I legitimately had surgery and I have the scars to prove it.  They are both physical scars from the incisions and what I assume will be emotional scars that will come when I get the bills and realize I need a second job to pay them.  (I’m thinking something where I get to wear a uniform…but not a hat.)

Due to the physical and emotional trauma my body sustained, it needs time and energy to heal from the invasive surgery.  What better way to heal than with some pre-packaged chocolaty goodness from Target?  It’s the perfect medicine.

I know people say laughter is the best medicine, but those people haven’t tried these cupcakes.  They’re wayyyyy better.  (Incidentally, I also discovered through this whole gallbladder thing that Percocet is also the perfect medicine, assuming you don’t mind constipation, of course.)

The cupcakes were amazing, and I contend they were good for me too.  I mean, the sustenance my body received from eating an entire 12 pack of mini cupcakes can’t be quantified.  Okay, well maybe it can technically be quantified by calories, fat, and number of tears cried when I realized I ate them all.  Whatever.  Each bite was more savory than the last, and if I had it to over again, I would absolutely eat the whole container again.

Actually, the only thing I would do differently is this time I would buy two containers.  Isn’t two always better than one?  (Except when it comes to STDs.  In that case, I would say one is better than two.  I would also say get to the clinic and get that taken care of, you dirty dog.)

So the next time you’re at Target and come across containers of mini cupcakes, grab one.  You won’t be sorry.  Then bring it to my house so I can down them all in one sitting.  After all, you didn’t even get me a “get well soon” gift.

FOR SHAME!

finished cupcakes

Notice how I left a few empty
wrappers to show you they were
chocolate? You’re welcome.

10 Thoughts on “I’m not ashamed

  1. Lisa, I had those cupcakes in my house, too. And I do agree they were very tasty. They were supposed to be for my kids, but I definitely ate quite a few myself, so I can understand how you ate them all, believe me!! Thanks for linking up with us!! 🙂

    • Aren’t they the best things ever? How do they get them to taste so fresh? You know those things have been sitting in a warehouse for 3 months, yet every bite is delicious. (Obviously).

      I wonder if they have them out for St. Patty’s day…..hypothetically speaking of course…

  2. So funny! Every time I go to Target, I get the vanilla and white chocolate one and eat it before getting to the register. I just hand them my empty container to pay. It’s important to go for the woman cashier, because she won’t even bat an eye. When it’s a guy cashier, I blame it on my three year old.
    Hilarious post! I love the gall bladder surgery tidbits. Ha! 🙂

    • You are my soul mate! For reals. I totally do stuff like that, only I don’t have a kid to blame it on, so I usually blame it on my husband, who isn’t there most of the time. He usually goes outside “to warm up the car.” I think the cashier knows the real deal, but he/she plays along. It’s all I can ask.

      Thanks for reading and for commenting. We will obviously be besties in no time.

  3. I’m not down with the brownies, I prefer chocolate chip cookies, however I stand with you in solidarity on the ambitious eating. 🙂

    • YOU’RE NOT DOWN WITH THE BROWNIES?! What?! My brain can’t compute and neither can my stomach. Brownies are chocolatey goodness that reminds us the world really is a good place (as long as the brownies have icing on them. Otherwise, it’s just a reminder the world could be better…with icing).

      What about a chocolate chip cookie sandwich with icing in the middle? That’s my happy place.

  4. Ha ha! I love your thought patterns. I downed a plate of fried calamari and a giant slice of Chicago-style stuffed sausage pizza with my two Pepsis tonight. I’m a sow. I feel like one. The inside of my mouth is all yucky feeling from eating like a hog. Thank goodness this was a one-time thing, meaning one-time this weekend. Fun post!

    BTW, I learned just a very short time ago that you can change the titles of the blogs in your blog roll. Like where it says MamaMarmalade 2x, you can change it to only say it once. Go into your blog roll in the layout and click edit. When the list of blogs pops up, there’s a “rename” button next to each blog title. You can change the name there. Then save.

    • If by “I’m a sow” you mean “I’m a bundle of awesomeness that appreciates the art of eating,” then yes, I agree, you’re a sow. Your dinner sounds awesome BTW. I’m craving some serious deep dish pizza and thanks to your reply, I’m thinking a delivery man will be getting a sweet tip from this girl tonight!

      Thanks for the tip about changing the blog names in the blog roll. I didn’t even notice it until you said it, but I fixed it so all is right in blog-world!

  5. You are a funny lady!
    I use all of my willpower to not buy junk food at the store, because I know I will eat every single bite in record time. A package of Oreos? two days, max. We had some left-over chocolate dessert heaven in the fridge, and I asked my husband to please bring me some. (I am on the couch with a foot injury. I’m milking it just as you are the surgery.) He brought the entire 9×13 pan (which had about four normal pieces left in it) and a fork. I ate every bite. While I’ve never tasted the mini-cakes of which you speak, I completely understand your indulgence.

    • You are not alone in your gluttony! There are others out there just like you. Welcome to our club! I’m actually going to write a blog post starting a “Chub Club.” Maybe I will do that now. Perhaps you can be one of the first members?

      I seriously can’t be around food that’s bad for me. I can only have healthy food in the house, otherwise I sneak eat. It’s not like my husband cares, or that he can’t tell I ate an entire box of Oreos by the extra poundage on my thighs. But still, it’s the shame that keeps me from it.

      And I commend you on two days with Oreos in the house. You are a warrior and my hero.

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