I Refuse To Call It An Obsession...

Even when I was pregnant I didn’t crave ice cream. Or pickles. And certainly didn’t crave them together. In fact, I don’t remember having any cravings. Except maybe craving to come out on the other side with a healthy baby and as little excess weight as possible. My doctor was pretty stern when it came to weight gain and in retrospect, I thank him. And my babies didn’t suffer – weighing in at 8 lbs. 9 oz. and 8 lbs. 12 oz. respectively. (And how the heck do I remember things like that when by 2:30 in the afternoon I can’t remember if it’s Wednesday or Thursday??)

So where this nightly need for a little taste of frozen yogurt came from I have no idea. And I never, ever liked ice cream (or frozen yogurt) with chunks of anything in it. Yuck. So what possessed me about a month ago to buy a Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream bar and eat the whole thing in about 2 minutes while driving home from the store? Unfortunately on the next trip to the store (which I believe may have been the next day) I discovered Ben & Jerry packed that same ice cream bar into a recyclable pint-sized box. And they cloned it in a frozen yogurt form with less calories, less fat and less guilt. And just a few days ago I discovered yet another temptation – disguised as less threatening than fat-filled, calorie-laden ice cream – called Chocolate Fudge Brownie frozen yogurt.

So now I’m a connoisseur of frozen yogurt (not ice cream) with chunks of stuff in it. And I’m trying to forget that I’ll be the mother of the groom in wedding photos in less than two months. Thank God their colors are black and ivory. Black can be so slimming…