I've been what I like to call a "pseudo-vegetarian" for about six years now. This basically means I get the slight feeling of moral superiority of a vegetarian while sneaking the occasional Chick-Fil-A sandwich (with extra pickles, of course). I've been completely beef- and pork-free for six years, no problem. It's with poultry that I have a problem. I actually managed to cut that out of my diet for about a year, and I was feeling great about it - "Check me out! I'm a lean, mean, lettuce-eating machine!" And then the unthinkable happened: Chick-Fil-A moved into Denton. At first, I resisted. The juicy chicken breast that enslaved me for four years at college could take a back seat to the salads and Boca cornucopia I had moved on to. But then the marketing blitz started: stuffed cow toys, free this when you buy that, etc., etc. And where there's marketing, there's my 6-year-old telling me all about what we're missing out on and how her life will undoubtedly come screeching to a halt if she doesn't get a stuffed cow toy. So, Chick-Fil-A lured me back in. It started with me stealing a chicken nugget or two from my kids' little meals, me having deprived myself of a meal of my own. But by the end of last summer, I had instituted "French Fry-days" every week, during which I would drag my two girls to the chicken mecca and get my own breaded manna - with waffle fries. Ah well. At least I'm getting protein - and it's a lot tastier than "chicken" patties made out of compressed vegetables...