One of the great things about living in an isolated house is that if you don't buy unhealthy food, there's little chance of junk slipping into your diet.

Unless ... unless you have a fifth column in the household. Then you're up effluent creek with no visible means of locomotion.

The spousal unit went down to his mom's house today and spent the morning doing little chores for her. When he came up home after lunch he had two cookie tins full of homemade goodness with him.

"Did your mom give us more cookies?" I asked pointedly. We have at least six tins of homemade cookies in our freezer from her, small discs of pure temptation that I'm doing my darndest to ignore.

I rolled my eyes at him. "We really don't need any more cookies."

He studied me solemnly. "I divorce you. I divorce you. I divorce you."

"Won't work," I told him. "You gotta be Muslim."

His turn to roll his eyes. "Technicalities. It can't be termed a marriage if you don't welcome cookies."

I couldn't keep a straight face any longer.

There's a kind of unspoken rule in this household that if there's a bone of contention and the person waving the bone can make the aggrieved party laugh over said bone, then the matter is considered closed.

Drat.

So now there are at least eight dozen stupidly delicious homemade cookies lurking in my freezer. Knowing how much my mom-in-law likes to bake in the winter, this is just the beginning.

The spousal unit and I both love sweet things. When he was growing up his mother baked constantly and in that household the meal was just something you had to get through to get at the endless desserts.

Now that he's back working full time, he can eat anything he wants and never gain an ounce. All I have to do is brush up against one of those cookie tins and my buttal region sprouts a cellulite dimple.

He can't see what the big deal is because he doesn't have to say no to the cookies.

I feel stupid and cranky because it irks me that I don't have more self-control.

Today I took out the upper baskets out of the freezer, the ones that hold the stuff we use all the time such as bread. I shifted food around so that the cookies are hidden under the baskets and not directly in my line of vision.

Now, every time I open the freezer I can at least say, "LAH LAH LAH LAH LAH. I CAN'T SEE YOU."

Do you think it will work?

Me neither.

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 20.76 miles - 33.4 kilometers
Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers