Sunday, September 11, 2005
I'm So Gross
My Grandma puts it nicely when she says that I have a healthy appetite. I love food. I love to eat. I'm hungry most of the time. I try to cook healthy at home. Healthy can be good. Fatty is better.
When my family gets together, the entire gathering revolves around food. Lots and lots of food. After a weekend in Springfield, I usually just feel gross. Part of the problem is that my Mom will pretty much make whatever I want. Now my Grandma lives there, too. That's two people willing to make me whatever I want to eat.
Example:
On Saturday morning I was sitting at the bar in my Mom's kitchen when Kevin woke up and came in. I was drinking a diet coke and watching my Mom cook my breakfast. I gave Kev a one-armed hug and said, "I'm having fried okra for breakfast. What do you want?"
Yes, I had fried okra for breakfast. I ate a huge amount of okra, had some homemade bread toast with butter, applesauce, a diet coke, and grapefruit juice. Yes, that's right. Tell me I'm not gross. You can't. (You don't even want to know the contents of my other meals.) I'm so gross.
My Grandma puts it nicely when she says that I have a healthy appetite. I love food. I love to eat. I'm hungry most of the time. I try to cook healthy at home. Healthy can be good. Fatty is better.
When my family gets together, the entire gathering revolves around food. Lots and lots of food. After a weekend in Springfield, I usually just feel gross. Part of the problem is that my Mom will pretty much make whatever I want. Now my Grandma lives there, too. That's two people willing to make me whatever I want to eat.
Example:
On Saturday morning I was sitting at the bar in my Mom's kitchen when Kevin woke up and came in. I was drinking a diet coke and watching my Mom cook my breakfast. I gave Kev a one-armed hug and said, "I'm having fried okra for breakfast. What do you want?"
Yes, I had fried okra for breakfast. I ate a huge amount of okra, had some homemade bread toast with butter, applesauce, a diet coke, and grapefruit juice. Yes, that's right. Tell me I'm not gross. You can't. (You don't even want to know the contents of my other meals.) I'm so gross.
