There I was, minding my own CaveMare business when Cupid shot his caramel filled arrow my way. I was 100% on track with my Paleo diet, resisting ricotta stuffed pasta shells, ice cream cake, coffee, sugar-laden throat lozenges, and a plethora of chocolatey treats that crossed my path since February 1st.
I’ve been quite proud of myself, and by sticking to Paleo for 2 weeks straight, I’ve noticed my sugar cravings have disappeared. I’m even finding that I eat less when I start my day with a large caveman breakfast – I’m fuller longer, and have yet to eat my daily caloric allotment since starting the plan… that was up until yesterday 😦
I spent Valentine’s Day with my parents, sister, and nieces. We had a hearty steak dinner (which my Dad barbeques in his fireplace during the winter months) and an abundance of veggie side dishes. So far, so good, and all Paleo-licious. Then my Dad surprised us with potatoes he bakes under the ashes – a family favourite, which he only makes once or twice a year. I allowed myself this indulgence, reasoning that our Caveman forefathers would eventually figure out how to make them since they, (1) had fire, and (2) would drop one in said fire sooner or later. I didn’t add butter, a Paleo no-no, and added a drop of olive oil instead.
Then we decided to watch a movie. Again, I was sticking to the plan, even when my Mom made popcorn. But when my nieces whipped out Valentine chocolate and started passing them around, I heard that old familiar voice – you know the one – small dude, about 3 inches high, sits on your shoulder, wears a red unitard, really should see a dermatologist about the horns sprouting from his head. Ya, that guy.
“Come on, just one,” he urged.
“No, I’m good. Had a baked potato – that’s enough cheating for me,” I replied.
“It’s not cheating if it’s for a special occasion. Besides, I don’t think your readers would begrudge you an occasional indulgence,” he reasoned.
Dude made a good point, so CaveMare took of the Cadbury cream-filled chocolatey jewel, ate of it, and saw that it was good. Fire and brimstone did not rain down on her, so she ate another, and yet another, and they too were good.
The next morning I woke up feeling ashamed of myself – like someone stole my fig-leaf bra and panties. I tried to put the whole ugly, chocolate-cheating scandal behind me. I went about my day, being extra diligent in whatever I did… I was more chipper than usual when I volunteered at church, I washed my lettuce for the upcoming week, I scrubbed some grout, and I even hopped on the elliptical for 30 minutes without giving myself lip. No matter how hard I tried to distract myself, I could not wash my chocolate stained sin off my hands, soul, and food journal.
And then I heard a voice again.
“Look in the pantry,” it whispered.
I checked my shoulder… it wasn’t red-faced dude. Who the heck is in my house?!
“Look in the pantry,” it beckoned again.
I inched toward the pantry, slowly reaching for the handle.
“Open my precious… open. Set us free,” they chanted in unison.
I opened the door and the 2 gold Lindt chocolate bunnies I bought for my nieces for Easter jumped into my mouth! We wrestled and ultimately, I was victorious – I destroyed those haunting-hares of milk chocolate doom by chewing them to death, until only this remained.
I’m soooo freaking weak! Those Valentine chocolates were my gateway drug into the next tempting chocolate holiday. Sorry Tash and J, you’re getting money at Easter – Love, Zia Coo Coo.
My scandalous food journal can be found under the 12 in 12 tab and selecting 3. February from the drop-down menu.