Cake and Wine Therapy

The diet, that we were supposed to start two weeks ago, has taken several wrong turns. It all started on day 1, when daughter 1 decided to break her own rules and bake chocolate brownies and granola.


On day 2, daughter 3 wanted to bake cookies for a friend’s birthday. I hesitated. They’re not for us, she pointed out, so I relented, but only after insisting that she baked a few extra – for us. By day 5 I was actually ringing daughter 1 on my way home from work, asking her if she fancied making a cake. That was last week. Then Harry went missing and all thoughts of a diet went missing with him. I think it’s called cake and wine therapy, or something like that. Since we found out that Harry’s spirit had been set free, we have had many lovely messages of love and sorrow and a cake given to us – a whole, yummy anti-diet cake. More therapy. This isn’t Weight Watchers, this is Cake Watchers and I’ve got the non-slimmer of the week award! When I got in from work tonight, I allowed myself a slither. Then it needed tidying up, so I did that. Then I had another slither, because it’s only a slither. Within 5 minutes I’d slithered the hell out of that cake. Partner came home and went to cut himself a piece. Woah! Where’s all the cake gone? he asked. I felt guilty, as it was mostly his and Harry’s cake, so I blamed dog 2. I shamelessly said that dog 2 had licked the cake and that I’d had to cut a large slice off it and thrown it away. What a waste! I exclaimed for effect. He looked at me suspiciously. You’ve got icing on your chin, he said. Damn, I thought. I bet Harry’s having a right laugh at this.

I sat down at my computer, telling myself that I must get a grip on this diet at some point. My bikini bod must be ready by the end of August. I reassured myself that there’s plenty of time. I looked at my e mails, there was one from Tumblr. I’ve heard of Tumblr, but I’m like an old person when it comes to all this shit, so wasn’t sure what it was about. I opened it and the subject read: Account notice: Your username needs attention. Hmm, strange I thought. I don’t have an account with Tumblr and then I read the e mail:



At first, I couldn’t read the long word and I read it something like: humon gous peng dreamer. Wtf? Then I reread it out to partner and I realised what it said: humongous penguin dreamer.

Well, I thought to myself. I’ve been referred to by a few names in my 45 years of life, but never a fat dreamy penguin.

I carried on reading down the e mail: if you’re still interested in using the username humongouspenguindreamer, just hit this button. There it was, as clear as anything. Highlighted in blue; calling me to just hit it. Goading me to agree to the name: I’m still a humongouspenguindreamer. And you know what, I almost hit that button, as the way the past two weeks have gone a fat, dreamy bird pretty much sums up how I’m feeling.

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