Is there a diet version of Deep Fried Twinkies?
I admit, the hand-lettered sign tempting me with the cajillion-calorie treat didn’t cause a gag reflex. Instead, I inwardly sighed. I bet those are good.
After a few seconds, my internal drill sergeant snapped me to attention. Too sweet. Probably heavy. I’d feel bad afterwards.
Thankfully, I was in my car so all I had to do was hit the accelerator to escape temptation. Still, as I drove away I tried to come up with a substitute. I could get a Twinkie, dip it in skim milk, dredge it in crushed corn flakes, and bake it in the oven.
Ugh. Even with all the finagling, the cream filling and carb-loaded fluff would still tilt my scales toward disaster. And in the end, it wouldn’t even taste good.
Before I saw the sign, I’d already flirted with diet Armageddon. I bought a Paula Deen magazine and flipped through the pages. Vicariously, I enjoyed the buttery biscuits and frosty-pink cupcakes without a morsel passing over my lips.
Funny, the magazine and the sign appeared just as I am enjoying the first results of a new diet. My clothes feel better. Inches are being lost. I can turn over at night without the assistance of a crane.
I’m heading in the right direction. So why do the signs appear now, trying to steer me wrong?
Temptation’s not a good thing. It’s best to run from it. But maybe it’s a sign that I’m doing some things right.
A wise country preacher (Adrian Rogers) once said if you meet the devil face-to-face it’s because you’re going in the opposite direction.
Turning away from temptation is not any fun. And I can’t find a diet version to rationalize wrong choices. A Twinkie is still a Twinkie.
If I give in to it, I’ll wished I hadn’t. I’ll probably feel bad. There’ll be extra weight to carry around. And in the end, it won’t even taste good.