Weetabix should get some sort of kickback
I came to the conclusion this morning that, as much as I love and admire her, I�m going to have to kick the butt of Operation Hottie star Weetabix, for introducing me to the fabulous low-rent breakfast nosh, the McGriddle. It�s kicking my ass down the street, past the gym, to the AA meeting for Junk Food Junkies in the basement of the local church. My only saving grace will be if they are a �limited time only' dealie.

The greasy, crumpled wrapper sits like a smoking gun in front of me on the computer desk. To its immediate left, my empty coffee cup mocks me. Some days, everything judges me. I fear if I venture back out for more proper caffeine, the allure of the fatty meat and squishy pancakes will once again sound their call, and I shall be doomed. Doomed, I tell ya!

To top it off, I also have to live with the shame of becoming less patriotic each time I sink my teeth into one of these guilty pleasures. My friend wench wonders aloud just how Canadian I could have been in the first place to partake of and enjoy such obviously synthetic syrupy fare. My personal belief is that the syrup in the Canadian version of these lovelies is the real thing. It helps me to sleep at night.

Thanks be to heaven that I�m going out with my sister and my niece this evening. Kate has a birthday party that centers on roller blading, and since my sister is in such poor health she wants me to go, strap on some skates and lead Kate around in safety. I don�t mind telling you, it�s been years since I was on skates, but in my day I was pretty damn good. (In my day? Did I just say In my day? Saints preserve us, I�m old!)

When you live in a small country town and you�re a teenager, there seems to be one activity that the majority of kids take on. A venue is usually provided, and parents then spend most Friday and Saturday nights chauffeuring said kids to and from this building/park/mall. My activity was roller-skating, back in the very early eighties. I was even involved in some skate dance competitions. Yes, that�s right, I waltzed. Then there was the ever-popular Four-girls-hook-their-fingers-in-each-other�s-belt-loops-and-do-some-fancy-synchronized-skatin�. I totally excelled at being the one on the outside, the one who gets whipped around the corners so fast, if she ever lost her hold, she�d have to be peeled off the concrete block wall looking something like Wile E. Coyote after a bad fall from a 1,000 foot cliff. So, I�m hoping it�ll all come back to me.

And I could definitely use the exercise.

Posted at 10:19 a.m.