9 days and counting. Haven't had a single granule of sugar. No Happy Hour cokes. No Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Not even a single bite of the Reece's Pieces dessert pizza at Pizza Inn earlier.
Then I got home tonight and opened the freezer. And there, between the California Kitchen Sicilian Pizza and the Pillsbury Frozen Whole Wheat Dinner Rolls was a commitment test. A little green box of temptation wafers. God's Perfect Food. GIRL SCOUT THIN MINTS. Kevin bought a box for himself. It's a cruel Catch-22 . . . if I buy some for myself, you know, for AFTER Lent then I fear I will give in and eat them before Easter. However, by the time Lent is over, Girl Scout Cookies will be unattainable for another 11 months. Oh, the horror. The horror!
So, my Eastern-Time-Zone daughter had to be at work at 6 a.m. Tuesday morning. What does she do? Text me. Thirty-seven times.
For those of you not gifted with math skills, this would be 5 a.m. in my bed where I WAS sleeping. WAS being the operative word here.
KC: "Yeah, so my arm hurts a LOT!" (4 follow-up texts confirming she had pulled a muscle)
ME: "Two words - chiro practor"
(11 more follow-up texts saying it was so bad her husband had to drive her to work, and she didn't think the chiropractor would be much help, and it REALLY REALLY HURTS A LOT MOMMY, and she wanted my opinion on what to take for it.)
ME: "One word - Heating Pad"
(I finally conceded that an Aleve might be her best choice though she knows my feelings about drugs.)
KC: "Chris has some Aleve, I'll take a couple in a bit." (I insisted she read the dosage instructions, as I feel Aleve is one of those "take one tablet twice daily" things. She then informed me that my prescriptive pharmaceutical advice must be a mistake, as she needs 12, not one.)
Then the texting ceased. It is still COMPLETELY dark outside, but I am now wide awake.
ME: "Hey! Customers and their mocha lattes do not come before me!" (As you may recall, my daughter is currently putting her $80,000 college degree to good use brewing Java for yankees, and loving it.)
(After a 10-minute intermission she returned to call me names)
KC: "Grouchy Pants"
(Then, upon realizing that I was still in bed, revised it to "Grouchy No-Pants".)
ME: "I am going back to sleep now. Stop texting."
So she proceeds to text a bunch of randomness in rapid sequence.
ME: "WOMAN! YOU BETTER MIND ME!"
KC: "Don't wanna. Can't make me. :oP "
ME: "Shhhhh. Mommy sleeeeeeeping now."
KC: "Lazy Bum." (This is how she speaks to the woman who gave up caffeine for 9 months and endured 32 hours of natural labor, just so she could now pollute herself with Aleve over a wee bit of arm pain.)
ME: "I'm sure you mean 'Busy Mom' not lazy bum. Your phone must have made a predictive texting mistake."
This went on for about a dozen more texts incorporating the need to pee, her "awesomeness", one "That's What She Said" reference (which, BTW, I hate!), and the awakening of her father. Then one of my texts failed to send, so it threw off the entire linear conversation and things became increasingly confusing until she said,
KC: "I'm so lost. It's prolly 'cause I'm all hyped up on 12 Aleve."
Goofy, goofy girl.