The Folly of Marshmallows and French Fries

Last weekend Urban Cowboy and I had a few people over to relax by the firepit and enjoy the beautiful end-of-summer weather. Not surprising, we had plenty of marshmallows on hand for roasting and s'more building. I love roasting marshmallows. Their sugary goodness makes me smile and I always seem to eat far too many. So, this time like so many others, I told myself I would not eat too many marshmallows because I did not want to feel sick. "One more marshmallow" kept leading to "just one more" which led to "I swear this is my last marshmallow!" and, in the end, I still felt sick because it's always the one you swear is your last that puts you over the edge and then you feel sick anyway. Honestly, it's worth it. What does this have to do with french fries? Well, last night Urban Cowboy went out with work people for drinks and dinner and informed me I should go out too because there is no food in the fridge - not even lettuce for a salad - so I called up my friend, SFee, to see if she wanted to join me for dinner. She had already eaten but was happy to hang out and watch me eat (that sounds creepy but it wasn't) and I had french fries on my plate with my yummy open face chicken salad melt. Of course, I said to myself and SFee, "I'm never going to be able to eat all these fries!" and I proceeded to eat every.single.last.one. It's just so easy with french fries. You're there, they're there - they're begging to be eaten and they make terrible leftovers. Well, I'm sure you know where this is going. I ate them all and then felt slightly ill for the remainder of the evening. (SIGH) When will I learn?