Drool

Thursday, September 17, 2015

Today I am grateful for drool. Am I a baby teething? No. What is my problem? No, not that one. Or that one. No, not that other one, either. This time my problem is with food pictures. I drool. Literally, drool when I see fantastic pictures of food.

On a bad day I have to scroll past quickly or I’ll gain ten pounds just looking. And I’ll need to re-hydrate quickly from the flop-sweats and aforementioned drool. I will over use “drool” in this missive, so prepare yourself. Are you drooling, yet.

I wish my drool was confined to only seeing a picture, or beautiful display of food in a case somewhere. But the other day I was on the phone with my mom and she was telling me how she made a favorite potato casserole to divvy up and put in her freezer. We agreed that you don’t put ONE serving of that in a dish, because you’ll eat three anyway, so why waste all of those dishes. I drooled. I swear I could smell it cooking over the phone and I drooled.

Do skinny people drool? I doubt it. Food doesn’t speak to them. They probably think I’m crazy and need medication not related to chocolate. I doubt they wake up in the middle of the night ruminating about what they are going to have for breakfast and lunch the next day. Oh wait, I don’t either. Every night. Just some nights. I have entire feasts in my sleep. That’s what kind of sicko I am. I wonder how many calories are in a foody dream?

And you’re reading this and you might be thinking, “Geeze, she’s crazier than I thought!” Or maybe, “Poor thing. She has problems!” Right on both counts. I’ve warned you before so if you’re still reading what does that say about you? I hope you’re drooling, too. Crazy needs company.

They say in Weight Watchers, “I’ve come too far to take orders from a cookie.” That’s a very noble, strong statement. And yet when that cookie starts dictating to you like Hitler on a platform, how do you shut it up? “Go away cookie!” doesn’t cut it. I’ve said it. Out loud. In stores. Often. . I imagine the lotus position because no way can I get into it, but then Chinese buffets dance in my head. “Ooooommmmm. . .” It doesn’t work.

Another tool from Weight Watchers is to go on line and check out what’s on the menu when you know you will be going to a certain restaurant. That way you can make an informed choice and not get sucked into having the daily-just-dump-it-down-your-jeans-special-because-it-will-endup-there anyway. I’m going to a fantastic Tea Room on Friday. You know where this is going. I went to their site and clicked on “menu”. They had pictures. And not of the quaint building, which would have been okay because I’ve never lusted after a building. Not once!

Great FOOD pictures. In full, glossy color. . .of brisket in a toasted croissant dripping with three cheeses; salmon eggs benedict with avocado and homemade hollandaise; grilled French toast stuffed with a honey cream cheese/diced strawberry filling with Vermont maple syrup! Butter, butter, butter. Cheese, cheese, cheese. No, no, no!

Gimme a break! Have mercy cyber gods and shut my computer down right now! You re-boot when I’m in the middle of booking a flight, or almost done ordering something on-line. But now? When I’m coming unglued. Nope. You just hum along, teasing me with creamy soups, unbelievable omelets and oooopy desserts!

I can smell them through the computer screen. My nose is twitching like Samantha’s on Bewitched, except nothing is disappearing, not even me. And. . .oh hell! I’m drooling. . .again!