My dad bristled when I reminded him (as he's the family chef) and asked why again I was becoming vegan. When I explained that I wasn't vegan, I am ovo-lacto-pisce-tarian, he said, "That's how I interpret that big word."
I'll break it down for you:
I'm not Catholic or Episcopalian or even any kind of liturgical religious tradition. I just like to observe Lent as an annual discipline in my otherwise fairly liberal faith. I also like the idea of flashing my boobs and eating whatever I want without guilt, which I'm pretty sure is why They invented Fat Tuesday. Although at this point in my day the only person I can flash is Noah, which I suppose would still count as a medium-scale thrill in our maturing marriage (vintage 2004).
Also, over-sharing is allowed on Fat Tuesday. That is the law according to the rules.
As to the marshmallows, we just inherited a bag of camp-fire-sized ones from my parents, who got the idea of roasting them over the fire from us before remembering that their gas fire has a glass plate in front of it. I've already eaten two today, unroasted. Only 22 to go.
Noah's not observing Lent, but he's very supportive of me. He's out chopping wood for the fire.