Three Cheers for the Red White and Blue

After a week of detox from my over indulgence of sweets, in an effort to lose some weight I have fallen off the wagon…the cause—the Fourth of July, weekend.

There was Thursday. Dinner at my sister-in-law’s where my mother-in-law joined us—God bless her. If I may digress…as good as it is see her it is hard. Preparing for and worrying about her upcoming delicate brain surgery she wears on her face like a coat. The stress, the worry, the draw of her face is something I have never seen draped across her being. For her children to be with her breaking bread seemed somehow comforting for her and them. So, while she worries she poisoned us with the most decadent homemade triple chocolate brownies I have ever eaten. That’s all it took to fall of the wagon. I tried to lose the calories by laughing at King Ralph’s practical joke he played on his little sister. Tried again by laughing at King Ralph’s uncharacteristic behavior each time his team won a point in the game of “Catch Phrase”. I think someone said, and it had a measure of truth, “you would think we were drunk”…but we weren’t. Just family having good ole’ fashion fun. If I may add the jealousy soothed at me for being the only adult not in need of reading glasses or a magnifying glass to read the game card.

Friday. Back at sister-in-law’s house to swim, sun and reminisce about the evening before practical joke. Where we sipped frozen mudslides while floating on rafts. The kids sipped Icees from the Quick Trip. While we floated and sipped we planned our next bit of holiday weekend fun—the drive-in.

We were the envy of the drive-in. Our dining table with its meal of lasagna, Zia’s salad, French bread and again those dammed delicious triple chocolate brownies; were hardly competition for others dinner of greasy popcorn from the concession stand. Then we played Catch Phrase while we waited for the movies to start—Ice Age 3 and Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian. By the time Ben Stiller bid me good night I had really fallen off the wagon. One punch in my stomach I could have shot out Mike & Ike’s and Milk Duds like a machine gun.


On Saturday we woke to Mother Nature’s evilness instead of Uncle Sam’s glory. It rained and rained to the point I feared we would float off before we had a chance to light a sparkler. Luckily the rain paused long enough for us to party with the cousins, watch King Ralph and cousin Rich perform their Independence Day boy ritual of blowing up plastic bottles with sparkler wicks while the family’s best out-laws (me and Nancy) watched with frozen beverages in hand—mine being the ever so patriotic margarita. It must be breed in their offspring because M and Kelli decided they wanted to try to blow a full soda can, or was it send it to the moon with a tail of twinkling colors...unsuccessful attempts each try. Of course no Fourth of July is complete without an All-American meal…let me just say we feasted well! While we waited for dinner to digest we went to see the firework display where Mother Nature was kind enough to give the rain a brief break so we could be umbrellaed under a canopy of colors. Who picked the spot with the tree blocking the view? Rich maybe? Probably King Ralph.Once back at cousins’ house it was time to add insult to injury when someone served a towering four-layer chocolate cake with thick fudgy chocolate icing. Yum-me! (I am beginning to feel like Fudgie the Whale)
failed attempt one

failed attempt two

Now the weekend indulgence of fun, celebration, explosives and sweet treats has come to an end… it is time for me to rejoin Sweet Eaters Anonymous. This weeks meeting: on the scale. Yikes!