No Good Deed Ever Goes Unpunished

Okay, the thirteenth is officially over (where I am, anyway), so my 24-hour tour in the Tanker Brothers’ Rolling Fast for Victory is over.

I'd originally figured Sunday would be a good day for a fast, since I’d only planned to do some yard work until dark, then put in a couple of hours’ worth of job-hunting on the ‘net. Nothing to work up an appetite over.

“The best-laid plans” etc.

I hadn’t figured on KtLW ‘n’ me being invited to a Polish Baptism--two kids we’d watched grow from knee-high to marriage-height had turned their parents into grandparents two weeks before. Since I couldn’t beg off, I had about an hour of windshield time to figure out how to

a. avoid chowing down and

b. explain why I wouldn’t be eating without sounding like a total idiot.

And if you’ve never experienced a Polish Baptism, imagine an Italian wedding minus the dancing and substitute paprika for oregano.

Comestibles.

Kielbasa in beer with red cabbage.

Apricot ham slices.

Pierogis, kopytka, rugelach, honey spice cake…

However, by judicious application of the principles of maskirovka and the addition of some suitable props (i.e., flatware, a plate with a couple of potato salad smears, a mug of coffee) and some compliments to the ladies about the pastries, I validated the dictum that people see what they expect to see and didn’t collect any adverse remarks about being too good for the food.

Total intake for the day: one glass of water and most of the contents of a 20-cup coffee urn.

And, now that I can munch something without suffering the qualms of conscience, there isn’t anything in the house except dog food. KtLW decided to forego her normal Saturday shopping expedition “because I knew we wouldn’t be hungry after eating all that food on Sunday.”

Rats.

Wonder what kibble with mustard tastes like…