It Was the Hardest Thing I Have Ever Done

Like EVER. Even harder than actually sliding the AU shirt over Andrew’s head on Friday after I gave him a choice between a UGA football jersey and an AU t-shirt….and he actually chose the AU shirt. No choices for next Friday…he’s too young to make those types of decisions anyway.

Yep. The “favor” that mama asked me to do for her on Friday was even harder than the t-shirt incident.

It all started out innocently enough. Mama called to see if I would be able to pick up an order of petite fours for her on Friday. They would be ready by noon. Being the good daughter that I am, I replied “Sure” as I began to salivate over the thought of the tiny piece of delicious cake.

“How many did you order?” I asked. Her reply, “Three pounds”. Wow! Three pounds of petite fours….yummy! I could not wait to help her with this favor.

Then she threw the curve-ball. “But don’t eat any”. (Did you hear that too? The sound of crickets chirping? Of a record scratching?.....I thought so).

As I collected my thoughts in the silence that followed the most crushing news I had heard all year , I wasn’t sure if I should A) be concerned about my pregnancy weight gain (after all, this is the same mama who, after seeing her daughter gain over the freshman 15 in college, baked said daughter cookies anyway and then told her not to eat them, but to give them to friends….it’s a wonder the daughter didn’t develop an eating disorder that day!) or B)admit that mama knows me better than I know myself and realized that the petite fours would be reduced to 2.5 pounds after an afternoon with her very pregnant daughter. If I wanted to get all technical here, this whole situation could be blamed on mama because I did inherit my affinity for sweets from her.

And now she was putting her daughter in a very compromising situation!

After I exclaimed my horror and stuttered, “What? Not eat ANY?”, she conceded with, “Okay. You can have one but only after I get there to pick them up because I want to watch Andrew when he eats one.”

It’s always about the grandchildren isn’t it?!

So the three pounds of petite fours sat in my dining room all afternoon. Untouched. Uneaten. Even the one that suffered tremendously due to my driving skills when running late to pick up Andrew from school. Not even that one was eaten before mama showed up and gave the “OK”.

It was a tough afternoon. I had to take a nap it was that difficult.

But finally mama arrived.

And we made a bee-line to the tiny deliciousness.

And she even let me have two!