40 days.

I love me a good 'ole Lenten fish fry, especially those of the "all you can eat" nature. And extra especially if it also includes all you can eat baked potato, coleslaw, dessert and beer.

It makes all that deep-seated Catholic guilt worth it. 40 days of fasting, prayer, temptation and repentance...pshaw...totally worth it for the fried fish. Self discipline and restraint, in general, come easier to me when it involves a promise of weekly meals of fried food.

And, since motherhood has pretty much stripped me of all my vices, I was, admittedly, hard pressed to come up with my Lenten act of penance. I mean, soda, my normal standby, was given up long ago in exchange for less puffiness and smaller jeans. As was candy and fast food. I could give up liquor, but it's Lent people, I am not up for sainthood, let's just calm down and be realistic.

So, instead, I opted to use these 40 days as a time to give more of myself. Dramatically poetic, don't ya think? Nothing fancy, just signed up for some more charity walks, purchased a few reusable cloth grocery bags (note to self: gotta remember to actually bring these bad boys along with me to the store), signed up to coach a rec soccer league, and stopped doing my super discreet creepy pedophile cough in earshot of my neighbor when he gets his paper in dirty underwear and an open robe.

I feel holier already.