The One With the Oreos

I sat at the kitchen island with a large {ok, VERY large} glass of milk with an unopened container of Oreos. An internal battle raging inside, I debated how many Oreos I could eat to go with my glass of milk. No refills, I told myself, which would only mean more Oreos. I opened the heavenly container and my heart was pleased at the neatly arranged chocolate sandwiches...all in their little rows, happily sleeping. I restrained myself by only buying the regular kind, instead of the tempting "Double Stuff."

Baby started kicking me. Perhaps he knew what was coming. A giant rush of sugar that would send him doing summer salts for hours. Don't do it, Mom, he was probably burbling in his newly forming brain.

I nicely picked out a modest stack (and by modest, I mean at least 5 or 6) of Oreos from the container, re-sealed the nice self-stick packaging, walked across the kitchen, and put the cookies back on the shelf where they belonged. I walked back across the kitchen, sat myself back on my now too-tall bar stool, crossed my legs indian style and took one last look at my stack of Oreos sitting next to my large, cold glass of milk. This moment wouldn't last long. Those Oreos never had a chance, poor things. Bobby started calling me from upstairs, and before he could make it downstairs to see why I wasn't answering him... it was gone. There was no evidence, except for the empty glass in front of me, some crumbs (which my countertop hides nicely), and a grin full of Oreos that got stuck in my teeth.

Bobby cocked his head to the side, threw a knowing glance at me, and played "The Lynda Card" (which is an inside joke for us...My Mom's name is Lynda, and every time she is somewhat disappointed in me, she always goes...."Mellliiisssssaaaaa" in a disapproving tone). "Mellliiissssaaaa...."

Guilty and caught red-handed. DOH!

"I just wanted some dessert!" I wined. "I'm PREGNANT. And I was craving OREOS, ok?!" My attitude suddenly sounded like a mouthy teenager. But I was ok with that.

That package of Oreos didn't last a week. The gallon of milk didn't last long either. It didn't help that my pregnant sister came down to help me polish off the package.

I haven't bought Oreos - or any sweets for that matter - since. I had mad heartburn that night, but it was all worth it. Oreos taste so much better when you're pregnant.

The End.

Ok, not really...because it's been 2 weeks since my last belly picture! Only 2 more weeks until I hit Trimester #3! So far, so good!