Love Hurts. . .

I've recently realized that some things that I love simply aren't good for me: Cool Ranch Doritos, cupcakes, In-N-Out Cheeseburgers with grilled onions and a side of fries, or Cafe Rio's Pork Barbecoa and house dressing. Just thinking about them makes my mouth water and causes me to gain five pounds. I know I can't eat these things in the quantities I desire unless I want to end up so large that it will take a crane and a specially cut hole in the side of my house to remove my bloated corpse. Excising these treats from my regular diet hurts, trust me, but I have bigger problems. I've got to get rid of something far more precious. I'm not referring to food, I'm talkin' about these suckers:




I know, I know, they look innocent, don't they? Angelic, even. Don't let their sweet smiles and beauty fool you. These children are disease carriers.

It never fails, but if I spend time with them, I get sick. They've made me puke at Christmas, want to die at Easter, and now, after spending only a few hours in their presence I've been cursed with a head cold. This, even though none of them appeared to be sick in any way. I'd lay the blame elsewhere if their track record wasn't so darn perfect.

Now, I love these vermin. Lots and lots. I'd even venture to say that they constitute five of my favorite ten people in the entire world. But, I'm thinking I might have to cut them out completely. . . for my health.

Cool Ranch Doritos, cupcakes, In-N-Out Cheeseburgers, Pork Barbacoa, and Jamie's kids. . . the sacrifices I must make!