Woe is me

They brought out a mounded trap of warm chocolate chip cookies. The children were running for the table as the magical smell expanded. It was check-in day at summer camp for my daughter. Suitcases, footlockers, and laundry bags all larger than the lanky teenage girls toting them. We arrived at exactly ten o’clock in the morning after a hectic early morning of preparation. A rich and gooey oversized chocolate chip cookie seemed like the ideal mid-morning snack, once it was paired with another cup of coffee. A reward for getting Maggie organized, packed, and transported for her two week hiatus of horseback riding.

As everyone else clamored for cookies, including a tall, tan blonde, clearly the younger second wife, I started to feel sorry for myself.

“Ohhh, they are still warm,” she cooed coddling the cookie in a napkin.

I begin to sour like milk in the hot sun. All I do is get to pay the bills for this place. God Forbid, I get a free cookie out of the deal. When was the last time I had a chocolate chip cookie? Whoever was president I’m sure he’s dead by now.

Prisoners of war don’t have it as bad as me. What ultimate deprivation I endure to remain a size eight. I suffer. Yes, suffer, I convince myself, like no one else.

Those enjoying the warm sweet treats have better marriages, drive better cars, make more money, have cleaner house, and smarter children. I, on the other hand, have transformed myself into the woman in Angela’s Ashes during the Irish potato famine. Remind me to buy a chamber pot on the way home. I don’t deserve plumbing.

How can I not be able to eat anything I want anytime I want? Why do I have to make choices? Limit quantities? I am the only one. Surely, every other American is eating anything and everything to their heart’s delight…

I am entitled to everything I want. I deserve a break. Madison Avenue and McDonalds have told me so for years and years and I accepted this message wholeheartedly. I am not supposed to go without anything. I should not bear any negative feelings whatsoever in life. Disappointment. Fatigue. Frustration. All solvable by purchasing various products and services. Calgon take me away.

Accepting the fact that I cannot eat whatever I want , whenever I want, in whatever quantity I want is why I pack Kashi bars in my purse. Did you try the new chewy dark mocha? It’s no chocolate chip cookie, but for 130 calories and four grams of fiber, it's a bargain. Those fiber grams will make my stomach a lot happier than eggs, butter, and sugar.

I plopped myself down to unwrap my snack. The cookie courting younger woman sat down beside me. “Good move,” she said as she crushed three-quarters of the cookie in her napkin and tossed it into the trash. “Mine is a South Beach Bar,” she said as she pulled her purse stash into view.

We enjoyed ten bites of whole grains together, as children dropped sweatshirts, room keys, and cell phones on our laps. Maybe everyone else is not much different than I am after all.