Bad decisions

Man cannot live by bread alone.

Maybe, but I'm pretty sure I could survive on diet sierra mist, ice cream, pizza and Sonic if given a choice.

I may weight 400 lbs and wear a blue Hawaiian print mu mu, but hey we weren't talking about my priorities.

As many of you know I tend to have extremely memorable experiences with fast food drive thrus. Since I haven't had one in a while, I guess I was due.

Take for example this evening:

I knew full well and good that after a bad run-in with some sour cream potato chips for lunch, my stomach wasn't up to anything remotely outlandish. But Sonic was on the agenda with my bestie, so who am I to pass up a trip through the drive thru of our all time favorite place to pig out.

After my bestie and I had finished ordering our usual combo meals, the worker asked if we wanted to take advantage of the free "Route 44" upgrade.

Did you say free? Why sure! Absolutely upgrade our beverages!

Bad.i.de.a.

When the very "fluffy" black lady with frizzy black hair that had a 2ft diameter and that I'm pretty certain would not fit through the drive thru window handed us our "Route 44" upgrade drinks, I blurted out the first thing that crossed my lips

Good Lord! Look at the size of that!

She narrowed her eyes and glared at me before sternly shutting the drive thru window and trotted over to retreive our bag of food. Maybe she thought I was talking about her hair...

The darn things won't even fit in my cup holders!

My bestie and I just giggled and happily slurped.

Except I wouldn't be giggling about 3 hours later when my attempts to finish said "Route 44" upgrade left me bloated, nauseous and in desperate need of tums. I lay on our bed, spread eagle, willing my distended belly to deflate. The husband tried hard not to laugh at me and resisted the urge to poke at my stomach.

I guess that means no fooling around tonight, huh?

I gave him my "What do you think" look and smacked his hand away.

Sadly, after a very productive bathroom break, I can reflect on my Sonic decision today, and say with 100% confidence, that I'd do it all again tomorrow.

[shrug] What can I say, Sonic and I are like "this". We are there for each other.

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Public Service Announcement

As millions of Americans strive to eat healthier and take better care of themselves, there remains a sub-group of the population that resists healthy eating. They turn their backs on Omega 3's and whole wheat. Maintaining that their larger mid-section is a "love-machine" or that their women love them just the way they are. This sub-group is The Husbands.

The Husbands are a product of their environment. The were reared in households where food was the vehicle to obtain their father's daydream of a middle linebacker as a son. Only to the wake up 15 years later and realize their bodies have not kept up with their eating habits. The college lifestyle can also attribute to an expanding waistline. Long nights of beer, pizza and ramen does not a healthy man make.

In order to protect your love investment, be sure to recognize the signs of an unhealthy eater. The sooner action is taken, the better the success rate. Do not attempt to encourage outdoor activities to promote weight loss until a healthier diet is implemented. The Husbands will feel excessive unhealthy eating is warranted if exercise has taken place.

Be very careful adjusting the subjects diet. They have been known to lash out when faced with change that they did not initiate. Especially in the case of their food, of which they can be highly protective. Modifications to their diet to promote health and well being must be done discretely, and should be inconspicuous. Below are several suggestions that will help result in success.

- Do not be afraid to switch containers. The Husbands can not recognize lite miracle whip from mayonnaise if jar looks the same.

- The Husbands tend to shovel. Capitalize on this opportunity by hiding vegetables in the meatloaf.

- Buy lite beer, and claim the store was out of the "usual". Desperation can be a powerful motivator.

- Spaghetti sauce is just the perfect shade of red to hide the slight color difference of whole wheat pasta.

- Tofu that is diced correctly and tossed in a stir fry and smothered with teriayki sauce can not be discerned from chicken.

- Put cheese on it. Remember: buy 2% and hide the bag.

- Ground turkey looks exactly like ground beef once it's been browned.

- A box of chocolate cake mix and a can of diet coke. Taste and appearances can be deceiving.

- A heavy coat of breading can conceal a healthy piece of fish. Be sure to invest in a "steaky" fish and call it chicken.

It is extremely important not to disclose your intentions or your actions. This can result in a devastating setback of hostile resistance. Not to mention your credibility as a provider. Take small steps and always maintain your innocence. Perseverance is key to your success. Good Luck.

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Stick a fork in me

Sometimes it's hard to draft something witty and humorous. Especially when nothing funny has happened lately. And then sometimes, events don't need a long winded intro or a back story, they just need to be told. Because they are obvious and funny all by themselves.

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Tyler is too young to understand there is a difference between him and mommy. Or at least that's what I told myself. I was sorely mistaken one morning.

Tyler's doing his usual get out of bed and run sprints between his room and our bedroom, where I was getting dressed for the day. And it just so happens that at the moment he made his lap through our bedroom, I was fixing my bra into place.

Tyler runs in, screeches to a stop, and stares for a moment in quiet fascination. Decides what he sees on mommy is pretty funny looking, points, giggles and takes off running again.

I think I'll start dressing in the bathroom, from now on. With the door closed.

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On the rare occasion that the husband is actually home on a weeknight, it falls upon me to cook. I know, it is so hard being me. This particular night we were having chicken pesto penne, a very good dish I "accidentally" created. Read: in my mind it sounded good, and for once actually turned out alright.

The husband was finishing up the meal by pulling the garlic bread out of the oven, while I was pulling the tableware out of the cabinets for dinner.

"Is that one of those midget forks?" the husband asked

"A midget fork?" sometimes I find it kinda hard to decipher what exactly the husband means.

"Ya, one of those small forks. I can't stand to eat with a small fork. I need a man fork."

"A man fork. Since when do we have male and midget forks?" I'm not sure I need to know the answer.

"Since I decided I need a man fork"

"A man fork" I clarify.

"Yep, a man fork" the husband grunts and holds his arms up at his side trying to look burly but ends up looking a man who really needs to poop.

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When you send four grown men out to play golf for Father's Day, something is bound to go totally awry. We sent the husband, my father, my uncle and my brother-in-law out for a day of golfing last weekend. They protested, but eventually saw the reasoning and conceded that maybe it WAS best if they spent the day on a golf course that served beer.

It was hot, golfing was slow, and several beers had been had by the 12th hole. When they pull up they notice an elderly man lying next to the tee box clutching his chest.

"Oh my god dude, are you alright?" The husband slurs.

"Well, my chest doesn't feel so good, so my friends went to go call an ambulance for me." the old man breathes.

"That's good, that's good." the husband nods in acknowledgment.

Long pause, followed by some back and forth with my dad and uncle.

"So dude, do you mind if we play through?"

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The first fall the husband and I were together, we went on an afternoon date to the apple farm. Afterwards, the husband hinted that a nice fall dessert would be really nice.

Sure, why not, I've got mad cooking skills.

Honestly my cooking ability only loosely resemble cooking. If you consider me wearing an apron and standing in a kitchen cooking, then ya, I'm Rachel freaking Ray.

I whip out my Betty Crocker paperback cook book, flip to the index and find a receipe for apple cobbler. I scan quickly and figure it doesn't look too complicated.

A dash of this, a helping of that, a pinch of this here stuff. 45 minutes later, and Viola! a cobbler.

"Here ya go honey..." I sang as I plunk down a bowl in front of him.

"Oooh, WOW does that look good!" You could just see the love in his eyes.

I trotted back to the kitchen to dole out a helping for myself. I padded back to the couch and plopped down next to him. I look over his bowl is half empty. He gives me a half-hearted toothless smile followed by a thumbs up.

Score! I rock!

Then, I notice he looks a little green. And he's not chewing, just swallowing. So I taste my bowl.

"Blech! Oh my god! This is awful! What the hell did I make?" I regurgitated my bite back into my bowl. It was disgustingly salty

"I think you mixed up the salt and the sugar in the recipe." The husband offers.

I yanked the bowl from his hands "Oh, god, why did you even eat that?"

"Because I didn't have the heart to tell you that you can't cook"

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Delivery Drivers

I have a pizza addiction.
I could eat it every single day.
If I didn't care about what I weight.
But I do, so I limit myself
One night a week.
I rotate where I order from.
So as not to look pathetic.
Perhaps I should consider cutting back.
Tyler knows a pizza delivery driver as they whiz past him.
He'll point and say "Um....slurp....slurp"
Toddler code for yummy food
Bad mommy
Pizza is nutritious right
Cheese, tomatoes, mushrooms...
Maybe I should cut back
Before he begins chasing them down the street.

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