Yesterday I went to the grocery store. I walked through the isles with stellar focus. Baby in mind. Chanting to myself, "eat healthy...the babe needs more than chocolate", etc.
I bought cucumbers, carrots, peaches, bananas, apples, wheat thins, all kinds of stuff.
Fast forward to today. I'm sitting on the couch, snuggling with my pups. And suddenly, I remember that there is a box of brownie mix in the pantry. Now don't ask me how on earth a box of brownie mix managed to survive in this house longer than one hour post purchase. I have no idea. But there it was. In all it's Betty Crocker red box glory. Fate. A gift from the gods of yummy. For a moment, I thought I heard angels sing as I opened the pantry door. And I think perhaps I saw a light shine down.
So I made brownies. Then I topped it with ice cream. And enjoyed every bite.
I'm pretty sure the peaches were mocking me.
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Screw the peaches. They're just jealous that you got brownies and they didn't.
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