My motto on vacation concerning food was: What Happens In San Diego, Stays in San Diego.
Then I got on the scale yesterday afternoon and ...
this is what I saw.
(The other photo I had of this pasta was of the waiter grating fresh cheese all over it. Uh, so I went with this one.)
(That, my friends, is a tortilla.)
(Carne Asada French Fries. No words, peeps. No words.)
(Look! A banana! I'm so healthy!)
(Um. There were strawberries in this crepe. Counts for something?)
(This was a pancake. A cinnamon pecan enormous and delicious baked pancake. Heaven sent.)
(There I go being healthy again! A salad! ... and I will say this was THE best salad I've ever tasted. A-mazing.)
(A burger? Again? Yup. Because we went there twice.)
And there ya go. The reason post-vacay blues are a thing. Because scales don't go on vacation ... apparently.
Oh, and sadly, this isn't even all we ate. Just all I happened to photograph.
What Happens in San Diego, STICKS WITH YOU!
ALL THE WAY BACK TO OKLAHOMA!