Huh. I was going great guns with the diet and then on Day 5 I lost no weight. Nothing. Not even a flicker of movement on the Wii scales.
So I did only do 45 mins exercise instead of the 60 minutes BUT I should have lost at least half a stone through the worry of having a teenage son. Seems only fair doesn’t it?
Yep, so late afternoon on Thursday Young Sam springs it on me he needs a lift to the local big town for a pub crawl. The journey there and back is the best part of an hour and en route we discuss how he is to get safely home. He proposes to catch the last train back with his mates just after 12pm and then two of them will share a taxi home. I say I will wait up till 12ish in case there is a problem with the train and then I will go to bed. The proviso is he is to ring me if there is a transportation problem as being a light sleeper/insomniac I am most likely to wake up at the sound of the telephone ringing or I’ll be awake anyway.
So we get to town. I pull in and wait for him to send me a text that all is well and I can leave.
Note – AT THIS STAGE HIS PHONE IS WORKING.
So while I am waiting my eyes fall upon a crumpled bag of sweets one of the boys has left in one of the compartments. I am mesmerized by its pink and white stripes. I focus on the music playing, on the people in the wine bars, but all the time I am consciously aware of this bag of sweets which seems to have the allure of George Clooney clothed in a jock strap which is a size too small……
Oh God. It’s so tempting. Delicious, yummy forbidden sweets are in the bag…What am I do? Just me and a little itsy packet of sweeties. Together. Alone.
I can’t resist. Game over.
I reach over and take a peak….. A heavenly aroma ascends my nostrils…. sweet, sugary, forbidden goodies…
Okay, so the strawberry bon bon had passed its best. 3 weeks left in the car being constantly frozen and defrosted in our present weather had kind of affected it but it still tasted pretty darn good. As did those couple of other unidentifiably manky sweets…..
Mmmmmmmmmmm…
Fortunately, Sam’s text arrived before I got stuck into one of those reels of sugary chewy laces. It had sort of melted and reformed but we were still going to have a real good conversation….
Anyway, so I get home. I wait up. 12 o’clock comes and goes. I amuse myself by watching Al Murray; (Not for those easily offended!)
And then England winning The Ashes…
There is still no sign of Sam. One o’clock comes and goes. I doze a bit. When I wake up it’s 1.50pm. Oh dear, he should be home. What if he’s frozen, lying in a ditch somewhere?
I send a text. No reply.
I try not to panic. Sam’s a sensible lad. But, nevertheless, I have visions of him in danger. At 2.20 I ring his phone – perhaps he’s gone to a nightclub and didn’t hear the text.
Again, no reply.
It’s 2 .40. I go upstairs and open up my PC. I can look up the early morning trains and find out when he might be back.
Suddenly, I hear a car pull up outside. I look out the window – it’s a taxi. He’s home. I start to shut down the PC when I hear a gentle tap on the door. Hmm… why doesn’t he let himself in?
I go downstairs and let him in. He’s sober and happy and has a good time with his friends. He even has a tray of yummy looking chips and onion rings.
“Where’s your key?”
“Oh, I forgot it.”
“I tried phoning you.”
“Oh.” (Pulls phone from pocket.) “The battery’s dead.”
There’s noting like being prepared for all eventualities is there? Anyway, there wasn’t much else for me to say but;
“GIVE ME YOUR CHIPS!”
I tell you what they were darn good chips too. Nice and fresh. With tomato sauce. Yummy.
So Sam and I tiptoe upstairs. We stop on the upstairs landing for a moment.
“Listen,” I say, tilting my head to one side. A huge roar suddenly erupts. “That’s your father snoring. See what I have to put up with.”
Sam grins. I put cotton wool in my ears. We go to bed.
So Day Five was a dieting disaster. I worked hard yesterday on Day 6 – weigh in is in about 4 hours. But for the moment it’s back to bed and pray for sleep.
9 responses
Now Mrs T don't get too hung up on those scales. Us seasoned dieters know that water retention is the enemy here!
Confound water retention Mrs A. If only one didn't need to drink!!
I like my Wii scales though. I wish the boys hadn't set up the profiles though – I'm really not that keen on being called "Poo".
Oh,oh, don't I remember those kind of days–the staying up till 2ish kind! Thank God they're over. But I think you can forgive yourself for one day off.
This sounds very familiar – well, the flat phone battery, etc, but probably not the craving for a crusty strawberry bon bon. Gotta watch those strawberry bon bons – they're full of trans fats (don't know what they are, but it's a trendy word to use at the moment) and they also increase water retention by 475%. It's been proven!
Sue – I'm lucky Sam started late on the going out late thing. Now I need to keep up with my plan of making the younger two do so much sport that they're knackered by 9pm:)
PB – Damn those strawberry bon bons and water retention; women's cursed enemies!! All bon bons should be immediately collected up and stored in a locked vault! (Preferably my pantry but I'm also prepared to offer my wardrobe, sewing box and laundry basket if required.)
Aaargh! Double aaargh! I won't tell you exactly how many kettle chips I munched my way through last night but I KNOW it was about half my calorie ration for a day. I thought I could eat one bag! I thought I could stop!! So, Mrs T, you are not alone and you WILL get on top of this diet thing because you are going to clear out your car and make sure there are no other high-calorie things in there, aren't you? And your kitchen, maybe, while you're at it?
I said 'double aaargh' because I have all this teenage-going-out angst to look forward to – no wonder you went for the chips with that kind of stress.
Clean out my car Mrs B? No way -That's far too much work!
You know Mrs B, there has been a spate of thefts recently from cars at the tennis car park. Surprisingly, since I am there more than most, my car still hasn't been burgled. That's because, as I tell the other parents, my car already looks like it's been ****** burgled. Those boys are so uncouth!
(I like their sweets though.)
Ah yes Mrs B – fear not, your time of penance and grief will come:) Make sure you have a supply of extra large crisps:)
So I'm going to go and have a last glass of white, a last chunk of rocky road with a milky coffee and then I'm on the wagon with you Mrs. T – I've 93 days till I hit London's 26.2 miles and since losing 3 stone in 11 months I managed to re-find one since August – let's do this thing! (said in my best Ratatouille voice). But hark, I hear the patter of tiny feet. No really, I do… all sounded so good till my 18-month old just trooped downstairs and wants to play – it's 11:53!!
Jen:
Wow! Three stone Jen! You mean you managed not to eat all those kid's delightful mashed brocoli and swede leftovers? What a star! I could never manage that myself – something about that stuff is soooo tempting:))
Crikey, good luck with the marathon. Rather you than me!
Ugh. Tiny feet at 11.53. I know it so well….