(Get your mind out of the gutter.)
I've been trying to shed a few pounds lately, and it's working out OK.
Trying to eat the right things, get as much exercise as I can, and trying to control some of my wilder impulses. So far so good, as I've dropped about 10 pounds since I started.
(Most people don't notice, I think, and the first one to say "Dropped? Where? From your belly to your ass?" gets a pen in the eye.)
I've been pretty committed, too. But I will say this:
Watching The Boy eat a chocolate covered donut he got as a treat rates as one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. (Top Ten material.)
Thank God it wasn't a Caramel Fritter or a Cruller, I think I would have snapped.
I was able to restrain myself only due to seeing the sheer enjoyment he got out of eating it. (He doesn't normally eat sweets, so He goes apeshit when he gets one.) My limits were tested, but that's nothing new.
I composed myself and helped him clean up after his chocolate odyssey. I hope he gets as much enjoyment out of celery, 'cause it's all I'm going to watch him eat for a bit. He can go in another room when he eats the delectable stuff I can't have.