Bologna

So I've never been an avid lover of bologna. Sure I liked to peel the red tape off the edges as a kid, but never drooled over the thought of it. Until I was pregnant with Andrea. Then I dreamed of bologna sandwiches at night. A lot. But I never did eat one. I mean, who has bologna in their fridge without a kid around to justify it? Thing is, I had the same thing with Lacie - dreams of eating bologna sandwiches. And I'd wake up in the morning first thing wanting a bologna sandwich. But never did eat one. Not sure why. Well, now I think I do. I think it was a subconscious protective agent kicking in to get me resist. Why? Because once I started finally buying the stuff and feeding it to my kids this last summer, I gave in and had a bite. And another. And a whole lot more. Until I was hooked. And now I find myself in BIG trouble if we're out of bologna. Not just because Andrea freaks, but because my body now craves it. Seriously! Nothin' better than a plain white piece of bread with a single slice of bologna folded over. Except I have to have more than one.
Oh yeah, and the reason it's bad? They have like 6 grams of fat - per slice! Ach!
Life is so hard.