My Broken Appetite

When it comes to controlling one's weight, one of the most important things is knowing when one is full and when to push away from the table. And I have to say that, for the most part, I'm at least okay at this. Just because a restaurant gives me a 3,000 calorie meal I don't feel obligated to eat everything. I don't have any shame about asking for a "To Go" box.

But there is one food in which, apparently, my ability to tell when I'm full absolutely fails me, and that is with milkshakes. I don't know if it is some neonatal reflex to suck or what, but once I wrap my lips around the straw of a milkshake I just go to town and don't stop until I hear that sad, sad slurping sound at the bottom of the shake.

And that's why--when I order a milkshake at a restaurant--I always order the smallest size. Because I know I'm not going to stop until it's gone. And it doesn't matter how much is in the shake--I'm going to be unhappy when it's gone. I honestly think you could give me a milkshake in a container the size of a kitchen garbage can I'd just keep sucking until the whole thing was gone.

Milkshakes are sort of my diet kryptonite.