“I’m getting full,” Ken said to me earlier today as we greedily gobbled down the biggest BBQ brisket sandwiches I had ever seen.
“Me too,” I answered back, with my mouth full.
“I think I will take the rest home for Trevor.”
“Here, you better finish mine.” I said as I handed him the last quarter of my sandwich. “Otherwise he will know I ate the bun.”
Ken put his half sandwich back in the earth-friendly to-go container and smiled as he happily finished off my sandwich. Then on the way home, he said that they were so good, he was contemplating pulling over to finish the other one too.
I just smiled, hoping I had gotten away with something but fearing all along that Trevor would know, the way a mother just knows things. He has that way about him.
Today we shopped the presale of the semi-annual consignment event where I had taken a bunch of my hardly worn clothing. I had originally decided not to buy anything at all at the sale. It kind of defeats the purpose, you know, of trying to get rid of all our excess baggage in order to travel comfortably in our 32-foot RV. Unfortunately, Ken, Trevor, and I helped out at the setup and sign in yesterday, and I spotted too many cute things to pass up. Besides, my darling husband/enabler kept holding up items for me to see as he was sorting sizes.
I have been praying that all my items sell so that I won’t have to bother with taking them to the consignment store next, but asking for all is being greedy. I prayed today, kind of jokingly (sorry), that enough stuff sells so that I can at least pay for what I spent today. Besides, there’s also lunch for three yesterday after our volunteering. We were ravenous and finished just about everything on our plates at the Black Bear Diner in Beaverton. This in itself was a miraculous feat, considering the humongous portions they serve.
Then there was today’s lunch at Sheridan Fruit in Portland. I was absolutely giddy as I perused the meat counter. I grabbed Ken’s arm, “They have clean meat!” No antibiotics. No hormones. Vegetarian fed. Locally raised. And for the most part, their sausages don’t have nitrates. I was in meat heaven, and that is why I persuaded Ken to treat me to lunch. Damn the wheat bun it was on, I was going to eat it anyway. It was amazing, especially with my sugar and caffeine laden real Pepsi. No diet drink today. I guess I figured I was already blowing my day by eating gluten, why not add sugar to my tummy troubles?
It is interesting living with two men. There’s my husband, who enables all of my bad habits (like gluten, sugary drinks, ice cream, shopping, being lazy), and then there is my 19-year-old son, who is a taskmaster. He sternly cautions me about whether it is a wise choice, what I am putting in my stomach, especially when it comes to gluten. When longingly eyeing a bauble or cutesy in a store, he reminds me that I said earlier I didn’t have that much to spend and I was only to buy necessities. Ugh. Yes, I remember saying that earlier. Thanks, son, for keeping your mother on track. He is such a sweetheart, despite his rules. He wakes me in the morning with freshly made carrot juice. “It’s ten, time to get up,” he says, as he steals my Tinker Belle to take her out. She is such a lazy dog in the mornings. She must take after her mommy.
All things can be used for good. I’ve heard it said God can use the bad that happens to us for good, so why can’t I use the behaviors/actions of others to suit my needs? I was thinking yesterday it might be a good idea to use Trevor’s taskmaster tendencies to help me diet and exercise. What a concept. I already have a built-in health coach.
And yes, he used his intuition on me again. When Ken gave him the sandwich, he took a bite and said it was good, which led me to slip up, “Yes, isn’t it?” He smiled his knowing smile.
Oops, I’m busted again.