Bread and Honey = Sweet Goodness

Sing a song of sixpence
a pocket full of rye
Four and twenty blackbirds,
baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened,
the birds began to sing.
Wasn't that a dainty dish
to set before the king?
The king was in his counting house
counting out his money.
The queen was in the parlor,
eating bread and honey.
The maid was in the garden,
hanging out the clothes,
When down came a blackbird
and pecked off her nose!
There was such a commotion
that little Jenny wren
Flew down into the garden
and put it back again

I am reading to my kids tonight before bed, and one of them brings me this book of Children's Nursery Rhymes and as I am reading the one above all I keep thinking about is eating bread and honey, and how freakin much I love honey and bread. Oh and how much I wished I was a queen and had a parlor, and how incredibly disturbing the last few lines are and really hoping to god that my kids aren't having nightmares tonight,but that's besides the point.

I put the kids to bed and see what I can find to eat that would go with honey since I am completely out of bread... damn it! I usually do my weekly shopping when the kids are with the sperm donor to avoid any meltdowns or random acts of WMS, (Walmart Mom Syndrome) at the grocery store, so Monday nights are kind of scarce on the food scene. But I did find in the back of the fridge behind the cheese and the yogurt Crescent Rolls...oh Thank you god of carbs. So before I can talk myself out of it the oven is preheated and they are cooking. I put them all on a plate thinking I will only eat a couple...take them out to the living room all thought leaves my brain as I start pulling them apart and filling them with honey and 8 rolls later I am laying in a stupor on the couch trying to remember what just happened. I think I may have blacked out from all the carbs and sugar. I might have a slight problem and possibly need some sort of therapy for continually eating 3 times as much as the amount of calories I burn everyday. I am thinking it has something to do with my subconscious not wanting me to ever get back into my size 6 jeans so I sabotage it with binges of bread and honey. Damn nursery rhymes and their subliminal messages. I need help.