Death by Krispy Kreme

I'm having a little trouble with the whole birthday week. More precisely I'm having 1.4 lbs (and climbing) of problems with the birthday week. My birthday, as I've been shamelessly blogging about since last week, and my son's are just three days apart. We started celebrating on Thursday (which was two whole days BEFORE my birthday). I've had everything from beef wellington to chocolate lava cake to carrot cake to mexican food. Today, though, has been the kicker. My son really wanted to take Krispy Kreme donuts to school for his birthday. I only had one for breakfast and then went and worked out. Then Munchkin and I made those darn cake cones and I had to sample those. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't support my Munchkin in her domestic ways? Don't answer that; it's an entirely separate blog. Anyway, my son just arrived home from school and was toting one dozen Krispy Kreme donuts with him. Apparently the teachers didn't want theirs. I've had two Krispy Kreme donuts so far and the only thing that's keeping me from eating them all is blogging.

I started out OK, but I'm on a very slippery slope. I'm gonna be Alfred Molina's Comte De Reynaud character in Chocolat on Easter Sunday. Remember him all splayed out in the window with chocolate everywhere? Or perhaps I'll just be Augustus Gloop and take a header into the Krispy Kreme stream. Ah sweet, sweet Krispy Kreme icing. There are some days when I think Oprah hit it on the head when she said, "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels." Today is not one of those days.