Oh my goodness. Get me off this sugar train. I have been a victim (albeit, a willing one) in a indulgence of sweets in epic proportions. (Did you see that? I used albeit...what a word find.)

Seriously, Super Bowl eating is not for the faint of heart, or those weak with self-control. I think I ate for about 5 straight hours last night. We went to a friend's house and had wings, sandwiches, crackers, cheese, chips, shrimp, yummy rye bread ho rs devourers, (sp???) cheesecake bites, chocolate eclairs, cookies, soup, pretzel mix, and more that I probably have indulged in but forgot in my feeding frenzy.

So, somewhere in my food induced coma that I somehow aroused from this am, I decided that we needed a change of scenery for the start of our school day. Enter Queen City Bakery. Located at Latitude 44, this delectable experience comes from New York City with a pastry chef straight out of Baked (which I assume is a bakery in before mentioned city). I knew I was in trouble when there were NO breakfast items in the showcase. Bringing three children into a bakery with no breakfast items is a problem. Why? Well, let's just say that the entire casing was filled with all things chocolate. Triple chocolate brownies, Espresso cake with buttercream frosting, chocolate muffins, red velvet, on and on and on.

I could convert to being a sugar freak. Throw away the chips, boys, I'm in.

Well, I couldn't very well be rude and walk out. After all, did I really think they would have fruits interestingly displayed for immediate purchase rather than pastries? I hadn't just entered the Health Food Bakery. So, what any normal mother would do (who is a glutton (no pun intended) for punishment) is to purchase their children, prior to doing their schoolwork, two triple chocolate brownies and a LARGE slice of Espresso cake.

Hello? Who does this? Did you really expect them to get any work done with a zillion tablespoons of sugar pulsing through their veins?

Did I mention I got coffee?

I was such a good girl. I didn't need chocolate. I'm a salt fanatic.

"No, JD, I'm not drooling on your chocolate cake. A bite? Well, I suppose if you really think you could spare one, I'd just take a quick little one. I'll give you back your fork in a minute. Oh, you said just one? Well, you'll have to wrestle me for it now. Who holds the answer keys, big fella? I can fail you in school at a moment's notice. Step away from the cake. Step away from the cake. You don't know who you're dealing with here, sonny."

I had three bites actually.

And one from each of the brownies.

And, we actually worked, really well. REALLY well. For about 30 minutes until the sugar rush ran out. Then we laid on the floor and slept like babies. Yes, the floor of the bakery. They just stepped over our bodies. They said it happens all the time.

I revived enough to buy my dear husband a piece and drop it off at his work for a special treat. I love him so. I just don't care, obviously, if he gets any work done as he will be curled up in a treatment room all afternoon sleeping off the sugar drug.

Oh, and when I got home, I opened the fridge to find the leftover cheesecake bites. I'll just pull out the syringe to inject it directly to get through our afternoon of Science and Literature.

Once all of it is gone, we won't see sweets in this house for a good couple of months. Not until Easter. Or maybe President's Day. Okay, maybe tomorrow.

All I know is that I need to make another pot of coffee, because it's going to be a LONG afternoon.

Now, where are those chips?