Posted by: Ingrid | March 3, 2009

The evening of the baked potato

My husband is a wonderful man.  He informed me on Sunday morning that he wanted to take me out to dinner.  Although I love surprises, I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out where we were going, just because it’s fun.  When I got back from the fitness center at 5:00 I figured I should snack since we weren’t eating until 7:00.  So I put a potato in the microwave, hopped in the shower, and emerged to a confession from my husband that I couldn’t eat a baked potato now because he was taking me to BJ’s, home of the gigantic stuffed potato.  I had no idea the secret could be gotten that easily!

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Please suspend disbelief and understand that I’m trying really hard to look like I’m showing (tight clothing seems to be key here).  I swear there was a bump when I looked in the mirror and a neighbor who stopped by later noticed as well… it just doesn’t seem to show up so well in photos.  But here I am, in full maternity regalia.  Love the Old Navy jeans even if they don’t really fit.  Yet.


When BJ’s does baked potatoes they don’t mess around.  These are 24-30 ounce super potatoes.  Wow. 


I realized during dinner that not only am I married to a wonderful and thoughtful man, but being married allows me to eat little bits of all the high calorie foods that I never want to order but always want to sample.  If I’d known this I would have gotten married so much earlier.  Really though, send a pregnant woman and and your average man to dinner and goodness can we get through the food!  Pizza appetizer?  Sure.  Salad with dinner?  Of course.  Dessert?  Could we say no?

I should have taken the pictures of me in my maternity clothes after dinner.  Not nearly as truthful but so much more convincing.


And is any BJ’s experience complete without pizookie?  I think not.  I did not eat this by myself, I assure you, tempting as it was.


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