I have met my mortal enemy. Everyone has one, or some, and this seems to be mine, as least as far as a low carb approach is concerned.
There were many warning signs.....like, when a kid actually stops eating a chocolately chocolate mousse birthday cake because he says it tastes funny. (warning!!!) Okay well there were others but that really is the main one. And then, midnight, drifting off to sleep in a luxury hotel, (the first one I've been in, for 10 whole years) (and by luxury, I don't really mean luxury, I just mean kinda not crappy, and the sheets feel nice.)
"My tunny hurts!" Bleech. All over the sheets, the blanket, soaking through almost to the mattress. Panicked run to bathroom for more towels, and then, again. Bleah. Desperation calls for the ice bucket.
(I can never use an ice bucket in a hotel again, now that I realize their true use.) Let's just say I left a very large tip for housekeeping.
And now me. And what can I eat? I seriously ponder the possibility of not eating anything, since I can't stand the thought of meat. I gently caress the box of crackers that I've given my youngest pukey son. I try not to resent him, gazing up at me with his deep dark sickly eyes with dark circles underneath, surrounded by his sweaty smelly curls stuck to his forehead. How come he gets to eat all the good stuff.
In the end, it's the box of wholesome O's (they are pretending to be Cheerios). I pour in the milk, and.....I don't think I've ever enjoyed a bowl of cereal as much in my entire life. Sorry, low carb diet, I guess there's just some situations where it just does not work.
There were many warning signs.....like, when a kid actually stops eating a chocolately chocolate mousse birthday cake because he says it tastes funny. (warning!!!) Okay well there were others but that really is the main one. And then, midnight, drifting off to sleep in a luxury hotel, (the first one I've been in, for 10 whole years) (and by luxury, I don't really mean luxury, I just mean kinda not crappy, and the sheets feel nice.)
"My tunny hurts!" Bleech. All over the sheets, the blanket, soaking through almost to the mattress. Panicked run to bathroom for more towels, and then, again. Bleah. Desperation calls for the ice bucket.
(I can never use an ice bucket in a hotel again, now that I realize their true use.) Let's just say I left a very large tip for housekeeping.
And now me. And what can I eat? I seriously ponder the possibility of not eating anything, since I can't stand the thought of meat. I gently caress the box of crackers that I've given my youngest pukey son. I try not to resent him, gazing up at me with his deep dark sickly eyes with dark circles underneath, surrounded by his sweaty smelly curls stuck to his forehead. How come he gets to eat all the good stuff.
In the end, it's the box of wholesome O's (they are pretending to be Cheerios). I pour in the milk, and.....I don't think I've ever enjoyed a bowl of cereal as much in my entire life. Sorry, low carb diet, I guess there's just some situations where it just does not work.
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