After determining that my lunch today would be a belgian waffle larger than my face-- topped with strawberries, hot fudge sauce, whipped cream, and a veritable snowball of vanilla ice-cream-- I've seen the light that is the ridiculously indulgent pasttime of eating incapacitatingly delightful desserts.
I'm not talking like a Mars Bar or half of a KitKat-- I'm talking full-on regret-it-when-you-realize-you-have-to-run-twenty-kilometres-to-burn-all-of-it-off gooey, sugar-coated, and chocolate-melted awesomeness.
There's just something about the supreme decadence of a plate of dessert sitting in front of you-- the anticipation it builds, the satisfaction it brings, and the happiness it leaves long after you've finished.
Yes, I prescribe to the notion that moderation is key, but sometimes there's a need for oversized, overindulgent, and overly-ridiculous servings of sweetness. Sometimes there's a need for piles of ice cream to come from two containers-- not one-- and sometimes there's a need for waffles to be bigger than their namesake countries.
Dessert is a wonderful thing, and deserves recognition. So skip the calorie-counting and eat-- let the sugar flow in your veins-- smile in contentment.
Because really, who doesn't want any?
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