It happens every afternoon about this time. I start thinking about dinner preparations, and they appear. Out of nowhere. Like little whispers of sin, seducing my brain cells. Hints of snack attacks. The dreaded snack attack. Then they grow. Ohhh and grow. And slowly start to eat me alive. Before long I’m wiping back the tears, tearing open the cupboard doors to see what goodies present themselves to me. WHAT IS A GIRL TO DO?
Oh, right! Pick a tomato and some basil from the garden and nip it in the bud! Er, mouth. Er, …never mind.
Now, you tell me if these were the only two I ate?