Sunday, December 16, 2012

It's a three-bowl night...

Where is the line between three desserts and an eating disorder? My world is conspiring against me and I am helpless. The Christmas cooking has started and the Pepperidge Farms Christmas cookies are buy-one-get-one at the grocery. But mostly, I'm just sad.

My son took the Newtown shootings pretty well. He didn't see much difference between this shooting and the last three. Which is very sad in and of itself. Add to that the Anarchist Soccer Mom's essay on mental health and the president's plea that we find a way to do better, and I'm just about comatose. Maybe seeking solace in several bowls of Peppermint Stick ice cream isn't unreasonable.

Now, if someone could just tell my digestive tract that it's going to be okay, I'll be moving right along... No pun intended.

2 comments:

Sarah said...

Anarchist Soccer Mom made the rounds on my Facebook wall. She is my new friend, but I hate how right she is and how sad it is that she's right.

I find nothing wrong with three bowls of anything, especially therapeutic ice cream.

Anonymous said...

Feeling your pain, girlfriend. These are sick times.