My wife a dietitian on a leash? There seems to be a magic weight. Every time that comes into view, there is unrest in the house. Then I get those “I don’t care” answers. Why do people not care what they eat?
Yes, and instead of immediately buying a bunch of carrots, cooking the leaves and serving them with a dry piece of fish, I will go out walking. Add a sauce, an extra knob of butter, a tastier piece of meat. You know, slices of pork tenderloin with a cognac cream sauce with dates and fig compote. Then when she finishes the last bit, she says, “You’re one feeder. ”
Heaven, aren’t those Americans with 300-pound women? Not my petite who can still wear dresses from when she was eighteen? But nothing can be done about it. The dietician is in charge.
Until my wife reported on the conversation: “I need to eat less snacks …”
Haha, I am back!