Another Lent where I disappoint myself. Living in the predominantly Catholic Bavaria, many people give up something for Lent. Sugar, alcohol, smoking or swearing are the common vices selected from which to abstain.
As seen in the photo for this post, I gave up swearing and sweets. Wanting to shed the holiday kilos that I’m still carrying as saddlebags, I thought this would be the perfect motivation. I would set a stellar example for my children in my dedication and discipline. Also, the 5 Euro penalty (1 Euro for the children) per infraction should motivate too, as I hate losing money.
Twenty-four hours into Lent the kids began bartering.
“What about Sprite? Does Sprite count?”
“Yogurt with Smarties?”
“But it’s cereal, Mama.”
This is what happens when intentions are not pure. I selfishly thought about my saddlebags and not my religion.
My photo documents the adjustments to the fast. To my shame, no sweets for the children became 2 sweets per day only. Yes, I folded. I couldn’t hear the whining and begging anymore.
Then came the loophole. Visiting my son’s former kindergarten to catch up with our favorite teachers from his formative years, a teacher explained the Catholic fasting rules from her church. Sundays are fasting free. Meaning, you can break your fast for 24 hours.
I was skeptical until our local paper published an article written by a priest confirming that yes, you may break your fast on Sunday.
Sunday at my house is now like Christmas, Easter and a birthday party in one with Xbox marathons, chocolate, Haribo, crepes and eating tablespoons of Nutella out of the jar (no double dipping though, you have to get a new spoon).
It still doesn’t seem right to me. Can’t I/we hold out a measly 40 days?
I owe the kitty 20 Euros and I still need to fess up to the frosting I consumed while making a birthday cake. The fasting is wreaking havoc on my conscience.
Next year I’ll be smarter. I’ll give up lobster, Beluga caviar and 40 percent cacao chocolate. I shouldn’t have too much of these anyway…