Why did today have to be the day? The moment to wax poetic on what I’ve put into my body to sustain me and to satisfy hunger. Or the other way around.
I read The Challenge this morning. I should have spiced it up. Literally and figuratively.
My day started on a tall-back bar chair surrounded by little things in cartoon show PJ’s. They get breakfast first or there is a world class meltdown. I’m always last. This is life when you have little guys. My taste buds were wanting honey and I knew we had some big ‘ole fat bagels that would go bad in the pantry in the next few days if we didn’t eat them. I could have frozen them, but it’s always in vain when I do it. So into the stainless steel Williams-Sonoma toaster went those two halves until they popped up with a jolt. Slightly brown, not overtly, and waiting to be buttered with some Calcium infused spread that this family tends to love. Once the buttered is painted onto the bagel, the act of putting on the honey begins. I don’t tend to overdo it in this scenario, one squirt of honey around the bagel seems to always do it for me. The other half can share with the first half. It’s slow drip coming out in a stream the size of what a classroom glue might look like when being used, but the golden glow is unmistakable. I’ve been nursing a sore throat, so that’s another reason honey sounds like a win. My husband just picked up fresh blueberries from the store and they were sitting, staring at me in that faded way before they’ve met water and glisten with new purpose. I washed them off and put several on my deep red melamine plate.
Later on, right before the short drive to daycare, there would be Buttery Caramel Coffee from Archer Farms brewing in my one-cup Bella. Also red. The smell of that deliciousness cutting through the sound of kids playing with trains. The Salted Caramel Chocolate creamer that I added next created a creamy white concoction that was ready to be transported, continuing to wake me up before we headed out the door and during the drive.
Then… a stall. For hours. This is my problem. I get so busy, that I don’t have time to eat.
And I did something not glamorous. There’s no way to describe the next move except desperate. I can tell you I had not been to a McDonald’s in the last several months because I had a fry that tasted like a deep vat of oil and I just hadn’t had the taste for it. But today, with hunger pangs growing at 3 p.m. after that bagel around 7:30 a.m., I decided to get in line. Much to my surprise—they’re making a Big Mac Junior. Yes, please. A small fry and a Diet Coke rounded out the order. But as it always is when you’re on the run and in this case trying to finish up some work before picking the kids up, you almost inhale the hamburger in the car and do a really bad job of putting ketchup down so that you can take the fries mobile too. Surprisingly, the lap job the ketchup was pulling held strong. Or maybe it was the fact that a small fry can’t last too long.
It’s now 8:30 p.m. I haven’t eaten since then. I’m tempted to have some wine and watch Scandal.
See… you now understand my problem.