Chapter 7
NO WONDER HUMPTY-DUMPTY FELL off the wall.
Later, at home, I practice walking in front of a mirror in my bodysuit and sensible rubber-soled nursing shoes.
After a while, I think I’ve got the wobbling under control.
But as I look in the mirror, I have to smile.
Thanks to Ingrid, I’m more invisible than ever.
So why not indulge in one of my favorite childhood fantasies?
An entire day when I can eat anything I want.
Then it’s on to my neighborhood supermarket.
With the zeal of a new convert, I grab a shopping cart, zip past the items labeled HIGH-PROTEIN and SUGAR-FREE and LOW-SALT as if they read DANGER, and head to the aisles where I can cause the most damage.
Anything fried, buttered, or dipped in chocolate is fair game.
It’s a Festival of Carbs, starring (in no particular order) Jimmy Dean egg and cheese croissants, Spudsy Sweet Potato Puffs, frozen White Castle Classic Cheese Sliders, and some brand-new Ben & Jerry flavors.
Slightly out of breath, I examine the contents of my cart with glee. It’s a nice mix of things I remember from my childhood (Fudgsicles, peanut butter crackers) and things I never knew existed until today (butternut squash ravioli, coconut shrimp korma, hot chicken breast fries).
For a woman whose life has been spent bouncing up and down between diets, I feel like I’ve been given a get-out-of-jail-free card.
In a race against time, before everything melts, I head to checkout.
It’s way too much for me to carry, but I don’t want to have it delivered or use my credit card.
Guilt overwhelms me. I don’t want them to know who I am.
I pay in cash and dart out, bundles in hand, in search of a cab so I can make a quick getaway.
I’ve drooled so much, I want to leave before I hear them announce, Cleanup, aisles five through nine.