Remember this post I wrote a few months ago about double-fiber bread and the violent, unthinkable things it can do to your stomach?

Well, the good news is that eventually your body adjusts to the extra dose of fiber, and the noises coming from your stomach, which in the beginning were like a gravel road buckling in an earthquake, quiet to a few small tremors now and then. It is still good to remember, however, that the fiber in most double-fiber bread is almost a full day’s worth. Which means, of course, that if you eat any other fiber during the rest of the day, your intestines might seriously explode. Or, at least they will feel that way.

Since I wrote that last post, I’ve learned to rely on my double-fiber bread for all my laxative needs, and I shun, as best I can, all other forms of fiber…if I want to see the outside of the restroom, that is.

But routines usually fall to the wayside during a PCS. Especially when you are living with your parents while you are in between homes.

“Sarah, I’ve made some delicious muffins if you want one,” Mom said one morning.

Mmmm, muffins, I thought. And they were tiny, too; about the size of a half-dollar. What harm could a muffin or two be?

I ate four of them.

By dinner, my stomach felt like it had one of those giant blow-up jumpy tents inside of it. I was belching uncontrollably. And if I walked outside, I feared, I’d float away like a Thanksgiving-Day parade balloon.

This is when Mom told me that her miniature muffins had an extra shot of fiber in them.

Fiber? More fiber? Between the muffins and my usual bread, I had likely eaten a whole week’s worth of fiber. I got to know my mom’s bathroom reading material in a hurry. And by the time I went to bed, I said I was done with double-fiber muffins.

The next morning, I woke to the smell of cinnamon and raisins. The aroma led me downstairs and into the kitchen where I found a plate of hot, miniature double-fiber muffins…sitting right next to three dozen of their larger, full-sized cousins. Sitting on my mom’s counter was, as far as I was concerned, a lethal amount of fiber.

And it occurred to me then that maybe Mom is trying to tell me something. Maybe, just maybe, she is trying to scare me away with all her muffins.