Yep, gluttony!
Why? Oh, because I'm a gluttonous sack o' poo.
To celebrate Easter yesterday, our neighbors hosted a potluck — and it sucked!
Why, you ask again? Because our friends make food that is WAAAAAYYYY too good.
Way too good. Too good to not eat until I was horribly distended in every possible direction. Afterwards, I could only sit there and moan about how I'm a gluttonous sow.
(But it was — oh — so — good! Creamy, cheesy mashed potatoes ... channa dahl — oh, how I love you channa dahl ... pork and beef roasts with chutney AND au jus ... Easter candy, blah, blah, blah and more food words and more food talk. Yummy!)
So from about 4 p.m. until bedtime yesterday, Bill, Mar and I stacked ourselves on to the futon in our new little sitting room and clicked around the TV stations moaning and complaining about eating too much and passing too much gas ('cause we're all classy like that).
I didn't eat again until lunch today when I had a salad — which was still too much for my normally hearty constitution.
Gah! You Food! How dare you be so delectible.
And Gah! To my lacking sense of decorum, which should have stopped me after my second helping.
But Easter just isn't about violating the prohibition against the Seven Deadly Sins, it's also about candy and plastic eggs.
As per usual, Margaret and Kate got up early to search the yards for Easter eggs. While we adults were bleary eyed, the girls were blurry balls of activity fueled by anticipation of candy goodness:
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