Hey Stupid

Popcorn and potato chips are my drug of choice, or at least they were.

I've been known to dive into a 'Costco' sized bag of Ruffles and only come up for air when a thin layer of crumbs line the bottom. Likewise, I have on many occasion made a triple batch of oil-popped corn with butter and salt, removed a bowl for the family, and then devourer the remainder. If that weren't enough, nine times out of ten, I'd return to polish off the 'family' portion. To say I have a problem popcorn and chips is to say the Titanic sprung a little leak.

Last night we had popcorn. Two of the granddaughters were over and we made a bag of microwave popcorn for their movie. They ate what they wanted. I had small portion. That was that; no second or third bag.

Today was my daughter Lindsey's thirtieth birthday party. In addition to grilled burgers and dogs there was a table of side dishes, which included a giant stainless steel bowl full of Ruffles potato chips. I like Ruffles! I had a small portion with my half-of-a-burger, and then throughout the afternoon I had a chip here and a chip there - one chip at a time. I probably ate more chips than I needed, but I definitely at less chips than I would have pre-surgery.

I'm not running the victory flag up the pole. Obviously I still have issues with certain foods or I would have turned my back completely. What I do have is a powerful tool. It's hard to over-eat when your stomach rebels. My stomach never used to give me notice until it was too late, much too late. Now my stomach lets me know right away; hey stupid, you're full! It's nice to know that even if I'm not smart enough to stop eating, my stomach is.

Hey stupid; it works for me.

Seventy pounds and counting.