Death by Maple Cinnamon Bun...

I am a strong believer in rewarding good behavior. Especially when the reward is food-related.

I am heading to Newport Beach next week, so for the past month or so, I have been trying to lose the winter-hibernation pudge. I must say, it served me well when I could cover it up with layers and layers of clothing, but that time has definitely passed, and it needs to go.

So I have denied myself all of the usual favorites (ok, more like "semi-denied" myself)...chocolate, cookies, pizza etc. I even gave up the DDP, because apparently even diet soda is "bad" for you :) I have been more dedicated to working out than I have ever been since getting hitched, and I am finally starting to see results (minuscule as they may be).

Today, I decided to reward myself with one of these:



Yes, a Maple Bar. I absolutely DESPISE most donuts, but when I was a kid, I had an OBSESSION with maple bars. Couldn't walk past the pastry aisle in the grocery store without engaging in battle with mom... "BUT I WANT IT! I NEED IT!"

Being the grown-up adult that I am, I went to the grocery store, walked right down the pastry aisle (normally forbidden) and picked out the biggest, fattest, most frosting-loaded maple bar I could find (let's face it, the frosting is the best part). And I ate it. The whole thing. In about 40 seconds.

Right about now, I am blessing my mother for consistently rejecting my vehement demands for this sugar-loaded weapon. I can confidently assure you that I will NEVER, EVER reward myself with one of these things again. WAY too much of a good thing.