And he never notices anything.
It's great for sneaking in new shoes under the radar.
Not that I do that. *cough*shiftyeyes*
But as great as all this is, I found myself sitting up in bed a few nights ago, long after hubs had gone to sleep, distracting myself with pictures on the internet. I've fallen victim to pornography.
This is one of my dad's favorites. I have to admit, one of mine, too. But nowadays I'm not really picky. I have daydreams about spoonfuls of Betty Crocker frosting from the jar.
I don't even like German Chocolate. But HOLY moly. That looks yum.
Ditto for spice cake. Maybe I'd just do the four-year-old thing and lick off the cream cheese frosting.
Chocolate puddle cookies. Nothing more need be said.
Potato Egg Fritatta Do you notice the pattern of carbs, here?
French toast casserole. I actually made this Thursday for some sweet girls that came over for breakfast, but didn't have any, myself. It was a wrench.
POUND CAKE. Which in an of itself, tells you what it's going to do. It's going to settle its pounds on your thighs. Straightforward. You have to respect that in a dessert.
Don't know, don't care. Looks Gooooooood.
I love lemon desserts. Like LOVE. LOVE.
Is that spinach? How did that get on there? Ignore the greenery and focus on the Ciabotta bread and salmon salad.... mmmmmm.
Chocolate cobbler. Can I get a hallelujah?
Vanilla bean scones. Oh, dear heavens. Help me.
And I really think I could systematically work myself through this truck filled with baguette bread. A little butter and jelly, maybe a dash of nuttella and some time, and I could knock this bad boy out.
Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea, deliver me from my voyeuristic carbohydrate sins.
If I were Catholic, I'd be reciting stuff 'til next Tuesday.
As it is, I'll just go have an apple.