The following is a true story that happened to me this week. Enjoy…
Friday morning I walked into my parents’ kitchen to see my seventeen year old brother eating a cake. Not a piece of cake, not a sliver, or a slice, but the enormous hunk of homemade chocolate cake that my mother had made for Thanksgiving. The kid didn’t even have a plate. I watched him for a moment before I asked, “What are you doing?”
Duh! “All of it?” I asked in a sort of horrified wonder as he shoved a giant forkful in his mouth.
“Planning on it.”
“But I didn’t get any!”
As I stared at him I knew he would eat all of it because that’s what little brothers did. So I got a fork and sat next to him and starting eating cake too.
“Stick to your side.” He told me with his mouth full. I did and we ending up eating cake for breakfast.
Wanna know what I had for lunch? Apple pie and ice cream. I swear it wasn’t my idea. Upon arriving home from Black Friday shopping I see two of my brothers,( the one from that morning was one of them) sitting at the table with the biggest tub of vanilla ice cream in the world and a whole homemade apple pie.
“You want some?” The older one asked. I was about to say no, my conscience kicking me in the butt.
“Just give her some,” the younger one said. “I don’t want to hear her b*&ching later that she didn’t get any.”
“You two are going to eat the entire pie?”
They both looked at me like I was stupid. In hindsight I guess it was stupid question. The older one plopped the pie on a glass pie and put it in the microwave, while the younger one got out three clear glass mugs. We waited in silence for the microwave to ding and when it did I watch as they placed steaming pie at the bottom of the mugs and the a layer of ice cream and finished it off with more pie.
“Let the ice cream melt some,” the little one said. “And then mix it up. It’s damn good.”
I did as he said and then tasted it. He was right it was good and the three of us proceeded to eat a whole pie and a half a gallon of ice cream.
Wanna know what I had for dinner? Stuffing. That was it. A big bowl of stuffing.
I gained 1.4 pounds between Wednesday and Saturday. Which brought my total weight gain from the summer up to five pounds and after spending a year losing forty-five pounds it served as a sharp blow to my sluggish system.
I decided to leave my parents house that day and return to my own. I blame mybrothers for my weight gain, especially the youngest one.(He MADE me eat that pie!) The boy is jacked. He’s got pecs and biceps and a stupidly flat belly and he hasn’t eaten a vegetable in years. He eats cheese fries for breakfast and waffles for dinner and he looks great. Did I mention that I hate him?
Like a lot of you I’m constantly fighting to lose and keep off weight. Every pound lost is a mini battle. Every day is a struggle to make the right choices, to say no to that brownie and yes to that banana. The truth is that there is no secret diet. Eat less. Move more and make the right choices. If you aren’t hungry enough to eat an apple then you really aren’t that hungry at all.
So, this morning I trekked to the grocery store, avoiding the frozen pizza that has become a staple in my diet and spent a fortune on fresh fruit, vegetables and things I actually have to cook. Mentally, I feel better already. Physically I’m suffering from the shakes because of pie withdrawal and wondering how I can keep up my word count and still exercise at the same time.
Your turn! What’s the worst thing you ever ate? Have a brother you’d like to smack? What’s your diet been like lately? Love pie? How was your Thanksgiving? Any and all comments are welcome.