Day 22: The Day After

Want to know what happened the day after I dreamed of éclairs, cream puffs, and flower-barfing babies?  Saturday night my husband and I tried to grab a quick healthy dinner at a specialty coffee house before running off to a movie.  It’s the “order-at-the-register-we’ll-bring-the-food-to-you” type of place. Starving and true to the diet, I ordered a chopped salad with chicken. Unfortunately, that particular night dinner wasn’t coming quickly.  The employees of the coffee shop were having problems loading my husband’s reward card with additional cash as well as figuring out how many reward points he’s earned.  My husband spent most of the dinner standing at the register as three different employees tried and failed to do anything with his card.

I was sitting at the table by myself when the food arrived.  I had to go find my husband and tell him that if he continues to wait for logic and justice at the cash register, his dinner will get cold. My husband let whoever was in charge know exactly how unhappy he was about the situation.  And what did the manager do to lessen our pain?  He promised us something extra on the house.  The something extra turned out to be only their best dessert—the tres leches.  After we finished dinner, the waiter placed a see-through cup with a magnificent-looking whipped-cream-on-top-of-a-dipped-twice-in-something-decadent-sponge cake on the table in-between my husband and I.  To add insult to injury, he gave us not one but two spoons.

I felt like I was on the set of “What Would You Do?"--the show that hires actors to create really sticky situations for the unsuspecting public to see how the unsuspecting public reacts.  Luckily, there weren’t any cameras around shooting a documentary of a woman on a low-carb, low-sugar diet being tempted with the best dessert a place had to offer.  What did I do?  Well, I ate half of the insanely delicious three-layered dessert and enjoyed every layer.

 

That night, I decided to never again tempt myself with images of dessert as I was falling asleep.  No, I must cross those images out with a red X and visualize cauliflower.  Maybe then, my husband will be able to pay for my salad quickly and I will not succumb to an incredible dessert.

Since this blog is somewhat confessional, I must admit I had a few handfuls of my husband’s pop corn at the movie theater (another no-no because of the starch-a.k.a carbs—in corn.)  Something tells me I’ll be dreading getting on the scale Thursday.