Or Not

My sister-in-law gives up sweets every Lent. Forty days of no chocolate, no cake, co cookies, no candy. Personally, I would rather give up something less necessary, like oxygen, for forty days, and I feel confident that Tim would fully support my choice since he would be the one dealing with a sugar-free me. It would not be pretty. Although it couldn't be much worse than this past Easter weekend when I gave up eating...pretty much everything.

It all started Friday morning when I barely had time to cram half of a bagel down my throat before running out the door. Oh well, maybe we'd have an early lunch.

Or not. Lunch turned out to be a plate of tomatoes and mozzarella at 3:00 while we waited for our hotel rooms to be ready. Oh well, dinner was at seven, so I'd get a nice meal then.

Or not. Turns out our reservation was for seven, but our table wasn't actually ready until 8:30. By that time, I'd eaten enough nuts to keep Bonzo happy for a year and drunk enough club soda to float a battleship.

I barely made it through the appetizer, never mind dinner, and to add insult to injury, they brought over a fabulous (complimentary) chocolate dessert that I couldn't even touch. Oh well, things would be better on Saturday.

Or not. Room service forgot half our order and the luscious-looking muffin that I got turned out to be chock-full-o-coconut! Yuck. What kind of sick, twisted person ruins a lovely little muffin with coconut? Seriously, they should have a warning label on the menu: Caution. Muffins may be hazardous to your taste buds. Oh well, I'd get something to eat once we got to the pool.

Or not. Around noon, we ordered water and fruit plates. Forty minutes passed, and so did a lot of waiters with trays of burgers, sandwiches and fries, but the only fruit we saw during that time was the dreaded coconuts hanging from the trees around us, mocking us as they swayed in the breeze.

At 1:25, we finally had to cancel our order and rush off to keep our 1:30 massage appointments. The waiter apologized profusely, offering to have the plates ready when we returned at 3:00.

Or not. The new waiter didn't seem to have any idea who we were or what arrangements had been made, but he assured us that fruit plates would be no problem.

Yeah. We fell for that one before. He had five minutes before we headed to Mickey D's. Maybe there we could get a few measly berries and some melon with our Big Macs.

We did get our fruit, along a side of rain, but dinner was only a few hours away and would be good.

Or not. Oh, the actual food wasn't bad, but the restaurant had an...odor...so that it was sort of like eating in the bottom of an old, wet sneaker. Oh well, Sunday would be better.

Or not. Sunday morning, we decided to go to mass at the church twenty minutes away where my mom was in the choir. Opting to skip the coconut muffins, we decided to grab some breakfast along the way in one of the many little towns or strip malls we would pass.

Unfortunately, it was pouring rain and we missed a turn, so we needed up taking the interstate. Not a lot of places to eat there. Oh well, we'd grab a bite somewhere near the church.

Or not. Turns out it took us twice as long to get there due to the rain, and there wasn't any place near the church. Easter Sunday breakfast turned out to be a pack of peanut butter crackers from my purse and two day old water from the bottle I left in the cup holder.

Fortunately, through all these trials and tribulations, I managed to remain sweet, pleasant and even tempered.

Or not.