Eating is one of life's great pleasures. Just because my experience is a little less pleasurable now, does in no way mean that I want your taste buds to suffer, as mine do.
By all means eat the juicy piece of cake dripping with icing. In fact, eat three, please. I'll watch. This is better than a racy onscreen lovescene.
It took me a while, but I'm no longer bitter about what I can't eat and I don't need you to feel sorry for me about it either.
To prove it, I'll help your children make homemade ice cream, insist they pour an entire bottle of sprinkles on it and watch as they dissolve into a sticky, giggling puddle of pure joy. Who would want to deny them that? I gladly encourage it.
I'll even make you homemade tittycakes for your Bachelorette party (two of my close friends are getting married tomorrow. I introduced them. I couldn't NOT bake them a celebratory cake?!)
So the next time you feel a pang of sympathy for my lack of desert options, have one in my honor. It's the right thing to do.
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