My story and I’m sticking to it!

OK. The husband and I are on a diet, and it is extremely frustrating because I have already dieted myself to the point where losing even one (1) more pound usually involves a lot of vomiting and the swearing that I am never eating at {insert restaurant name here}. I’m serious. When I got pregnant with Eldest, I weighed 125.

I now weigh 130.

I figure that’s probably about as good as it’s going to get without surgery. In my adult life, I never once weighed less than 125. And I looked damned good at 125, if I do say so myself. And, the more astute amongst you will note, I do.

But I digress.

What I wanted to post about is my theory in regards to servings of fruit. I am currently having two of my five daily servings, in beverage form. Want the recipe? Here you go:

Juice of one (1) orange
Juice of one (1) nipperkin filled with Peachtree schnapps
Splash of vodka (Ketel One, which is made of finest wheat, which I propose counts as a serving of ‘grains’)

Put into a shaker full of ice, shake well, and pour the whole caboodle into your glass, ice and all. This ain’t no martini, friends, it’s a…fruit-laden, fiber-bearing, good for you dammit!, Adult Style Smoothie. Only on the rocks instead of blended. With fruit. Which is healthy! And good for you!!

OK?

OK.

Don’t mess with me on this. I’ve been cleaning all day and only got ¾ of my downstairs finished. Which sucks mightily. Add to this insult to my dignity that The Husband is late – AGAIN!! – due to things that are beyond his control except for that little tiny point that he’s too damned conscientious to say, “Duck ‘em! They brought this on themselves and I’m going to just let them wallow in their misery until tomorrow!” which actually makes it entirely his fault that he’s late, and I am a woman who needs her fantasies.

So.

It’s a fruit smoothie.

With…a little kick.

That is all.