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.

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