Must stop eating wings
I admit it: I’m a wings addict. Few things make me happier than well done (read: hot, tasty, crunchy) wings.
In fact, I make my own wings. I try to make wings at least a couple of times a month but on a night when I won’t have to figure out how to feed the kids (E tried one of my wings once … it wasn’t pretty, but I think H likes them ok).
So on Wednesday, Katie and I feasted on homemade wings (I’ve gotten her hooked on wings, too). And then last night, my parents ended up taking us to my favorite restaurant, and I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to eat their very good wings, too.
I had been planning on making wings on Saturday, too, because I love them that much. Now I’m trying to convince myself that three times in one week is probably a bit much. After all, they’re not exactly healthy.
Must. Stop. Eating. Wings.
