Boop, boop diddum daddum waddum chew!

"Hello.  My name is Kim Jay, and I am a sushi-a-holic."

(all-together) "Hi, Kim."

"It has been 23 hours since I last ate raw fish."

Okay. So WHAT is the deal? What the HECK do they put in this stuff that makes it soooooo addicting? I'm not even kidding.  I have come to the point in my life where I realize I have a problem.  A real, serious, problem.

Let's go back in time, first, shall we?  Five years ago, not only would I not eat sushi, I would not eat fish of any kind.  I think it all started when I was about 17, and we went on a family vacation to Panama City, Florida.  On that trip, we went deep-sea fishing.  On that trip, it rained.  It was pretty rocky out there.  On that trip, a man stood at the front of the boat and puked his guts up the entire time.  On that trip, the smell of the squid we were using at bait, combined itself in my memory with the smell of that dude's tossed cookies.  And, on that trip, I was  turned off fish and it's smell of any kind for the next 20 years of my life.  A tragedy.  A moment of silence, please.  (Oh, and by the way...on that trip, I caught the biggest fish and won the $64 pot!)

So, flash-forward to 2007.  I'm pregnant.  No fish for me, and that's just fine and dandy.  Or was it?  You see, Charlie got my girls hooked on the stuff, and guess where everyone wanted to go as a special meal out?  Sushi.  But, I could not partake, so I just sat and watch them in utter delight and wonderment of the meal they were enjoying.  Suddenly, my little teriyaki chicken wasn't looking so hot.  I wanted that fish.  I had tasted it on our honeymoon in Maui as sashimi, and it wasn't bad at all.  No fish taste!  But, now I was pregnant and was forbidden the roll!  They ate it on birthdays, they ate it in the Bahamas on vacation, they ate it on Saturdays, they ate, they ate, they ate...

SO, we get to Memphis a year later, Peanut is 8 weeks old and my dear friend, who will get my entire estate when I die because of this, told me about Osaka.  And, once at Osaka - there was - THE CORDOVA ROLL.  It has been downhill/uphill since (depending on whether your name is Charlie/Kim.)  Why?  Cause the stuff ain't cheap!  I find myself scraping my pennies, downloading coupons, memorizing the lunch specials, and paying cash so Charlie doesn't know...that I've had the fish.  I've even begged and pleaded on Facebook for someone, ANYONE...TAKE ME OUT FOR SUSHI!

So, I'm scarfing it down in my car in a parking lot, and Charlie calls:  

"Whatcha doin?"

"Just grabbing a bite to eat while I'm out."

"YOU'RE EATING SUSHI AREN'T YOU?!?!?!?!?"

"Maybe?"  (And, I even give him the cute little puppy dog face over the phone - which he totally sees in my voice - because, you know, we're married and have those super-powers now.) 

"You're not right!  You wouldn't even eat FISH when I met you!  I'm scared to look at the AMEX bill.  You've GOT to stop."

This, I know.  I do have a problem.  So, do YOU have a sushi problem?  Anyone else out there?  Am I alone in this?  Here are some of the signs:

1. You're hoarding cash so that you can eat sushi without your husband knowing.
2. The people at Osaka know your name, and your mom's name, and your friends' names, and your brothers' names, and your kids' names, but not-so-much your husband's.
3. You equate large sums of cash to how much sushi that could buy.
4. Your daughters are now on their own for college tuition.
5. Your 2 year old can properly use chop-sticks.
6. You have chopsticks in your glove-compartment.
7. You have chopsticks in your purse.
8. You have chopsticks in your closet.
9. You have voicemail from friends telling you where they saw coupons for Osaka - and you DARE NOT delete them!
10. Your friends are trying to find you and drop by Osaka just in case...
11. Your mother (aka ENABLER) calls and says, "Did I hear you say you wanted to eat sushi today?"

So, I did come to the realization that I had a problem and needed to hold up to my part of the family cut-backs and put down the sticks.  I told Charlie THREE WEEKS AGO, that the next time I ate sushi, it would be HIS idea.  Well, that day came.  And, it was last night.  And, it was good.  (Wait. Hold that thought a moment.  Mmmmmm.)  But, now?  I want more.  So, I'm writing about it instead.  And, dang, those little fishies are just gonna have to keep on swimming - but not forever.