The marked difference, being 5 months pregnant, is now I really find true, unadulterated delight in consuming foodstuffs. Don't get me wrong, when I was a kid I derived quite a bit of satisfaction from my daily bowl of Cheerios, GrapeNuts, and Cinnamon Toast Crunch combined with chocolate syrup and bacon bits, but it wasn't the fulcrum upon which my happiness was balanced. If for some reason I had to just settle for a half of blackberry pie and some Cheetos in the morning, my day was pretty much the same. However, these days I get the same endorphin rush from back-to-back Big Macs that Glenn Beck probably gets from reading about natural disasters in blue states.
Chocolate chip pancakes. Corn dogs. Salt and Vinegar chips. Blocks of cheese smothered in salsa. These are a few of my favorite things. They make me feel like I have meaning and purpose and that I'M IN LOVE AND I DON'T CARE WHO KNOWS IT. This isn't just going from Aw shucks to Gee whiz! It's more like...on a scale of zero to resplendent, eating food comes in at a solid nine, only to be surpassed by watching a litter of puppies wrestle each other under the arc of a rainbow on the Fourth of July.
This is why I've gained ten pounds in two months. Okay, twelve...ish.