That Was Quick

I’m on a juice diet.  A guy at work sent me a link to this thing called “fat, sick and almost dead”.  I guess I should have been insulted but hey, reality is that the Squeeze living here, has turned me into a barn.  I know… I know… He doesn’t  hold me down and pour food down my throat, but I like to cook; eat; drink.  The why doesn’t matter; all that matters is that we are too fat to fit into any of our clothes.

So I’m on a juice diet.  Kid 3 is here and obviously he can have juice for dinner.  It doesn’t matter that it is 10 vegetables in there, made by me; the Harridan would be screaming.  So the Squeeze got another night off (don’t think he has had one on as yet) and I made him go out to eat.  Hey, I’m pretty good when I set my mind to it, but I’m not sitting here drinking juice while they are feeding their heads off on pizza.

So off they go, after about fifteen reminders to take the antibiotics – not that it matters really.  They are the ones he had last time that he didn’t take.  When his foot turns gangrenous and is lopped off, I’ll remind him that antibiotics are the evil thing that could have saved his foot.  Damned velvet wearers!

Anyhow, they squeak off for dinner and I get in a couple of games of scrabble online, one tweet reply and start thinking about what to write and then they get back!  Do I get no peace?  At least I can’t smell the pizza…

My day off is tomorrow.  We are doing Christmas dinner early and I’m not going to be swilling juice while a Mexican lamb roast is cooking!