Elsewhere in this paper, I have written (read: whined) about following a no-sugar, low-carb, no-fun diet.
I realize the only thing more dreary than following a no-sugar, low-carb, no-fun diet is hearing someone moan about following a no-sugar, low-carb, no-fun diet. I promise to be brief about that.
After two months, I'm over devouring cauliflower. Cheese has become almost tiresome. Even bacon has become boring.
The only thing giving me any kind of edible joy at all is almonds (sadly not Almond Joys, sigh). Salty, crunchy almonds. They are not just my afternoon and bedtime indulgence, but my reason to go on. They are my lifeline.
I go through so many that I started stocking up on giant warehouse bags so I can't possibly run out. I am what I eat, and I am certifiably nuts.
I store my almond stash in the pantry, which is pretty barren these days without the potato chips and Pop-Tarts. All that's taken up residence in there, besides nuts, is the cat food (even it is grain-free; Pippa takes after me) kept on lower shelves.
The latest batch of almonds I bought wasn't all that great. The nuts were overcooked, practically burned. But I've been swallowing them -- and wallowing in self-pity -- anyway.
The other evening, I was hungry and just had to have a hit.
In my hurry, I grabbed the bag, ripped it open, pulled out a few and popped them in my mouth.
Crunch.
Spit!
Hack!
Those almonds tasted worse than I had originally assessed, I thought as I rinsed out my mouth. They had to have gone rancid. What was the expiration date on them anyway?
I scanned the package for a number.
Instead, I saw: "PURINA Whisker Lickin's Brand Cat Treats. Chicken & Seafood Flavors. Crunchy & Yummy."
Yes, I had grabbed -- and chewed, eww! -- the cats' snacks instead of mine! The "16OZ More to Love!" bag had been placed on a higher shelf by mistake. Even in my carb-deprived state, the treats with ingredients like "brewers rice" and "corn gluten meal" were paws-itively vile.
I shared the "tail" on Facebook for my friends' a-mewsment.
And I took a good lickin' over the Whisker Lickin's cat-astrophe. Comments ranged from "Whisker lickin' good" to "Good for your breath and overall dental hygiene" to "A Whisker a day keeps the vet away." One asked, "Do you now have a strange urge to use a litter box?" I didn't. Hiss. But my coat was quite glossy. Tail swish.
I quickly learned I wasn't the only one ever to grab the wrong item. Friends admitted their own product fails.
There were the beauty/health blunders.
Shared one: "Just as bad as the time I was overly tired and reached under the bathroom sink to sprinkle on baby powder after a shower. I sprinkled on Comet Cleanser."
Said another: "My grandmother reached for the Robitussin in the middle of the night and it wasn't until she had swallowed the fingernail polish remover that she realized her mistake."
Posted a friend, "It's like the time I brushed my teeth with athlete's foot/jock itch cream."
Shared another: "In my opinion, spray starch does not adequately replace hairspray."
And several reported their own doggone pet mishaps.
"I once accidentally ate a dog heart worm pill," posted a friend. "Horrid. Bitter. I was trying to give my dogs their meds in ice cream and stupid me I wanted a bite and somehow ended up with the pill in mine. So dumb!"
A friend said, "This reminds me of the time that my youngest sister ate the pack of Doggio's that I had bought for our Basset hound."
Admitted another, "I once ate dog cookies." Notice, he didn't say it was an accident. Neither did the friend that said, "Milk-Bone biscuits are on the bland side, but loaded with crunchy fiber ... commenting for a friend."
As they say, "Bone a-pet-treat!"
Treat me to an email:
What's in a dame is a weekly report from the woman 'hood.
Style on 12/05/2017