Do you ever come out of a weekend and wonder what happened? I just did that this past week.

I woke up Monday morning, about 25 minutes later than usual, wondering what day it was. Actually, I knew what day it was, I just found it hard to believe the weekend was over so quickly.

It all started on Friday, as weekends usually do. I took my parents on a dining and shopping trip to a really big department store and a Chinese restaurant. The Chinese restaurants are my favorite most of the time, since most of them offer a pretty good variety of food on the buffet for a fairly reasonable price.

The only trouble is, I try to get my money's worth any time I eat at a place that has buffet foods. Therefore, I usually end up spending more on anti-acid pills than I did on the meal.

However, this time I was sensible, eating only two plates full of food and no dessert. I sometimes put away as many as three plates, each one progressively smaller than the first one. The first one is always the biggest, piled up with a little bit of everything on the bar.

Have you ever noticed that there is something about that Chinese food that makes it grow inside your belly after you eat it? I still feel hungry sometimes later, too; a lot sooner than I would if I put down a big bowl of pinto beans, a slab of corn bread, a couple green onions and sometimes kraut or chow-chow.

I don't think they have that stuff in China. In fact, when I visited over seas, the people there didn't eat beans at all. I couldn't believe that some people had gone all the way through life without pintos, kidneys, limas, Octobers, green beans, wax beans and great northerns. We would have starved to death without those ‘little brown beans' as I was growing up. The reason I call them that is because one time I told my parents that I didn't want any more of those little brown beans. I don't remember what the answer was, but it was likely something like, "Beats the heck out of a snowball, don't it boy?"

As for my earlier comments on dessert, I am not one of those folks who really cares about them, as most of you know by now. I will occasionally eat a bit of ice cream or honey on a biscuit, but that is the exception and not the rule for me.

I would prefer to have some more ‘good' food and no sweets. I can't look over a buffet counter covered with fancy sliced cakes and pastries or cookies and ice cream with lust in my eyes. I just pass on by without a second glance.

If I ate dessert with the same zest that I sometimes have eating food, I would probably weigh in around 400 pounds by now. Not that it would really matter, I just can't afford new clothes.

I can still remember how my late grandmother would eat most of a plate of food and stop, only to say she couldn't eat another bite. However, bring out some cookies, cakes, pies or lemon ice cream (her favorite) and she could put away another bowl or two. How can you be so full you "can't eat another bite" and then shovel down a bunch of sweets?

I only eat sugary foods for two reasons: if I am up late and still need to drive or if I need a quick boost of energy. I guess that really boils down to one reason, doesn't it?

Then again, when I go somewhere with desserts as food, I sometimes pick up something just to be civil. This is especially important at birthday parties, where it is considered an insult by most if you don't partake. However, I always try to hide around until cake is all passed out and then cut my own slice. That way, I don't get stuck eating something roughly half the size of the iceberg that dropped the Titanic.

But this column wasn't supposed to be about sweets, although it mostly worked out that way. It was supposed to be about how my weekend escaped from me. Perhaps the way this column got away from me is similar to how the weekend escaped, one line at a time.

I remember Friday pretty well, like I said. Then Saturday we decided to have a yard sale. I had to gather and deliver all the yard sale stuff from storage to the apartment. Among the items were lots of clothing. I couldn't get the racks, like the ones in stores, for the clothes until late Friday night. One of my friends was kind enough to stay up late to help me get them delivered. His wife came to the yard sale, bringing lots of her stuff — mostly baby furniture, which seems to be awfully popular.

It was all down hill from there. I got up at 6 a.m. on Saturday and started setting up the stuff and then about three of my friends showed up. One, Ben McConald, had to ride with me to pick up his two rabbits and some boards and glass. He still has a desk, dishwasher and some other things to get. I feel sure he will do so before we all die of old age. Of course, I had his rabbits for the entire winter and spring, so I won't hold my breath for fear of turning blue and keeling over.

After that, I ended up going to work on my get-away place in Virginia. I don't think I got much done. I was so tired, I don't even remember going to sleep that evening. Sunday, I visited my parents after church and then rode back home, falling asleep while watching a terrible movie. I don't recall having ever seen anything worse, but at least I didn't stay awake for the entire thing. I really believe one of those Japanese Godzilla movies would have been more entertaining.

That takes us back to Monday morning, where I wake up wondering where the weekend went. Maybe I'll take a couple days off to get caught up, Lord willing.

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