Shame

201.8 lbs. Okay, this one is on me.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

“Wait. You’re not Catholic. What the hell are you doing in a confessional? Get out of here.”

“I want to get this off my chest, do you mind? The Unitarian minister just looked confused and offered me pound cake. Rather counter-productive, actually.”

[Annoyed sigh] “Go ahead. I’m tired of listening to 80 year olds confessing to yelling ‘Fuck’ at bingo, anyway.”

“It’s like this, Father: I’ve been following a very strict protocol to burn fat and lose weight. I have not had any sugar or bread or anything starchier than a sweet potato since January.”

“Did you break the rules of this protocol?”

“Not exactly, Father. I mean, the time period to abstain has lapsed…”

“Just in time for Cadbury Eggs, Hershey Eggs and Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs…”

“Who’s telling this story?”

“Sorry. Go ahead, my child.”

“I have not had a hot dog, white bread  or a piece of sweet or even an alcoholic drink in that time.”

“And?”

“Grand slam, Father. I touched all the bases. And I’m paying for it in weight gain.”

“Were you in a hot dog eating contest?”

“No, Father. Just one.  All beef, steamed with mustard. On a roll. About 300 calories for the meal.”

“You know, it’s Lent.”

[Annoyed sigh] “A) Father, I’m not Catholic and B) it’s not Friday. That’s the beauty of being Protestant: we can eat what we want when we want.”

“If you want absolution, Kid, ditch the sarcasm. Continue.”

“I went for a walk and at the end of it, I went to Starbucks and ordered one of those salted caramel bites. 190 calories.”

“Only one?”

“Yes, Father. Tasty, but very rich.”

“And the wine?”

“Two glasses as I talked to a friend. I figured that I was okay to indulge in these things, you know. The calories were under the limit for the day, I’d been walking and…”

“And you figured you’d been good and could get away with a little deadly sin, right?”

“Lust? Not much going on there.”

“No, Dummy. Try again.”

“ Pride? Not hardly. Definitely not today.”

“How about gluttony? Remember gluttony? Your personal favorite?”

“No need to get bitchy, Father.”

“So you had one hot dog, one small dessert bite and two glasses of wine and you gained…’

“1.2 lbs. overnight, yes.”

“Okay, for starters, you’re not exactly ready for the competitive eating circuit, you know. Joey Chestnut isn’t wetting himself at the sound of your name.”

“Okay, Father.”

“This is biochemistry at work. Sugar is inflammatory. Gluten is inflammatory. You had both for the first time after essentially detoxifying your body.”

“I see, Father.”

“And the hot dog had sodium, I’ll wager. You said the dessert was salted caramel?”

“I see where you’re going, Father.”

“This is temporary. You know that. No need to freak out, but you do anyway.”

“ It just brought up old feelings, though. From having been down this road so many times before, even before  I decided to go to Fab Hot Dogs. You know, I was asking myself if I was going to be able to maintain the discipline or would I find an excuse and go apeshit.”

“Hey! Watch your damn language.”

“Sorry, Father.”

“So, did you binge today?

“No, Father. I had yogurt with fruit and flaxseed for breakfast and I missed lunch..”

“Not a good idea. You should eat at least every 6 hours. You have those Fiberfull bars from Trader Joe’s in your purse…”

“Father, how do you know what’s in my purse?”

“Lucky guess?”

“Yeah, right. Give back my Sephora Rewards card, by the way.”

“What was dinner?”

“8 oz filet mignon, green beans and sweet potato and a LOT of water.”

“Well, the water should help flush out the sodium and its side effects.”

“What’s my penance?”

“You’re penitent enough on your own. However, keep drinking the water. Limit the indulgences or space them out and get walking. Go and sin no more.”