Shawn, your brother is a foodaholic—what do I have to do to prove it to you!

 

Er… this really isn’t ‘blog-worthy’ (like all my previous ones, you know) but a few minutes ago I opened an email from my sister Shawn, and while it made me laugh out loud, I also wanted to scream.

I was all set to reply to her email in ALL CAPS, but I know she’s dealing with a little girl who’s under the weather (and a husband who’s under a blanket because he thinks it’s catching) so as long as I have this soapbox I call a blog, I will do my all caps here instead:

SHAWN—I AM A FOODAHOLIC!  WHAT MUST I DO TO PROVE IT TO YOU!

The jist of it is this; this morning I got an email from my sister saying that my niece Sophia had a rough night (but the kid still managed to be a riot by groaning “Holy mother of pearl” and okay, that was pretty funny).  I told Shawn how sorry I was to hear about that poor baby, and to be honest I had a rough night too—I woke up in the early morning hours with some pretty severe… abdominal issues.  But what made it worse was that it was my own doing. 

Y’see, I was so thankful it was a Friday, I stopped at the local bakery after work to get a cupcake; but when I walked inside, they had this low table laden with “Family-Size” apple pies for $2.99.  Wow, what a deal!  So I picked one up (feeling both repulsed and excited at the weight of it), promised myself to ration it out over the next week & then proceeded to eat over half the damn thing last night.  

When I confessed this to Shawn, her response was  “I didn’t know you favored apple pie.”  

Wait—what!?  First of all, who doesn’t favor apple pie?  Second—”favored”?  Shawn, I ate half a 32 oz pie in one sitting!  There’s something wrong here, and I know you have your own family to worry about, but you were all set to call the police last night because it took me two hours to respond to an email—so the next time I confess I’ve just eaten a pound of pie, you need to come up with something better then you didn’t know i favored pie!  I’ve already gained back all the weight I lost in that ‘UPMC Weight Race’ we both participated in (the one YOU won, outsider) PLUS a couple pounds on top of that, so don’t you think an intervention or something is in order?

 

Sophie in the mouth of a shark—given my appetite lately, I could probably gobble this ham up in a couple bites if I had the chance

 

Okay, I don’t know where I’m going with this, and in all truthfulness I think I would’ve lost it if Shawn had said something to me about the overeating.  I used to accuse her of being an “enabler” (for being a good cook) and one time I said “WHY are you always after me to lose weight but then cook all this food whenever I come to visit!” and she replied “I guess I expect you to starve yourself when you’re not here—besides, it’s not everyday Jim gets a home cooked meal”  (while her husband just smiled and nodded).  

Haha, well, I asked.  (And I AM grateful Shawn, and I hope that shows whenever I’m sitting at your dining room table gorging myself.)

All I know right now is, spring is upon us (according to the calendar) & I’m not going to be able to pretend I’m hiding my belly under that heavy coat anymore.   To rounder people like myself, winter coats are SECURITY, like Linus & his blanket.  Oh how I dread the morning weatherman happily telling everybody to “Hang up your coats folks, I think winter is finally behind us!”  Foodaholics and winter go together like peanut butter & jelly, cheeseburgers and french fries, cake and ice cream, beans & franks, no wait ham and scalloped potatoes…

Oh that reminds me—Shawn are we having Easter dinner this year?   I’m partial to those honeybaked hams, but you know me, I’ll eat anything.