A little, French bakery has opened down the street from my house. I adore it. I also loathe it because I have no willpower and it sells the most divine croissants I’ve ever eaten.

At first I just ate them to keep my fat levels topped up, but the guilt was overwhelming. Now, I use them as rewards for dealing with daily crap.

Had a crying child at kindy drop off? Get a croissant.

Gone to the gym? Get a croissant.

Bad hair day? Get a croissant.

Tantrum at the supermarket? Get a croissant.

Done the washing and put clothes away. Get a croissant.

Got all your work done? Get a croissant.

Lack of sleep, again? Get a croissant.

Asshole stole your car park? Get a croissant.

Too much wine last night? Get a croissant.

Couldn’t do your jeans up? Get a croissant.

Please someone tell me I will get sick of croissants soon?

bigwords x