Frequent visitors to Daddy D know that the signs of aging are piling up. The grey hair glares like a beacon, the back is stiff if I sit still too long. I hardly sleep through the night without at least one trip to the bathroom. The one that gets me, though, hits me where it hurts. I continue to spill food on myself.
I may be the squarest man alive. One Diet Coke too many during the course of the day hurts me a little. A six-pack of beer will last a year in my refrigerator. I've never tried any recreational drug. I'm the world's most militant anti-smoker. Some people would say I'm not a lot of fun. I am a little overweight.
I love to eat. I'm a gravy junkie. I find most dessert irrestible. So, I carry around twenty pounds too many. Portion control? Heresy! I'd like to swim in a pot of gumbo, wallow around in a vat of spaghetti and sleep on a cushion of German chocolate cake. I'm a food guy. Is it a surpise that I would wind up wearing so much of it?
A crouton here, an onion there, any number of things drop into my lap or onto my shirt. Just to keep everyone up to date, most recently I have dropped cabbage onto my shoe and tomato seeds onto my shirt sleeve.
I'm advised over and over again to watch what I eat. I guess I'm making it easy on myself, since I'm carrying my lunch around with me for the rest of the day.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Enduring an Eating Disorder
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1 comment:
Lovely, lovely writing. I enjoyed the wording of your next to the last paragraph. You are a poet! Just read this part out loud "...tomato seeds onto my shirt sleeve."
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