Seems like saying "no" to ooey-gooey, warm, crisp, chocolate-y S'mores should yield an immediate 5lb submission of the scale. Especially when everyone else around the campfire is delighting in the indulgence, and I dig to the depths of my self-restraint and manage a "no thanks."
Lemme confess, I've enjoyed plenty of delectable indulgences myself this Summer. Too many. And there's one thing I've learned in my personal battle of the bulge--after a string of "yes please!" always comes a much longer string of "no thanks."
Please don't utter "deprivation." I hear that term constantly mentioned by overweight and obese proponents of the fat acceptance movement who favor a particular sweet. Only in America could someone put the words "deprivation" and "Snickers" in the same sentence. Talk to me when water, shelter and education are uncertainties, not a candy bar.
Nope. Simple self-restraint is all it was around the flickering fire on Labor Day. And no, the scale won't be posting any change tomorrow as a badge of my rational thinking. But my clothes won't be pinching at the waist either.
Don't think I don't know how delicious those damn S'mores woulda been though.
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