In the wake of the "Pizza Incident" I almost didn't hop on the scale this morning.
But I couldn't resist it's siren call so I pulled it out from behind the fridge (I don't have the closet space to bury it behind the Christmas decorations anymore), blew off the lint bunnies, and prepared myself for the possibility that it'd read the same number as last week. I gingerly stepped on, thought light thoughts, tried to block the "Pizza Incident" out of my mind on the off chance I'd gain weight just thinking about it, and climbed on with my eyes closed.
Then for the moment of truth. I opened my eyes, looked down and WHOOPED!!! Even after the dreaded "Pizza Incident" I'd managed to lose 2.4 lbs. Hooray!!! I hopped off the scale, did a booty shake, and ran to my husband to brag about my accomplishment. He was pleased -- clearly thinks I'm crazy but he was pleased.
This morning I made Belgium waffles for my five-year-old. I'd originally planned on diving into a waffle and instead of swimming in the syrup, I would top it with fresh strawberries and light whipped cream. So I'd planned on being sorta good (do you know how many calories are in ONE Bisquick Belgium Waffle? It's ridiculous) but because I'd actually had positive results from the previous week I opted for my multi-grain english muffin with light peanut butter and a banana for breakfast instead.
I mean after all I'd just survived the "Pizza Incident" there was no need to have a "Waffle Incident" the next day.