This new operation is not working out well on the homefront. At work I’m fine; I’m busy, I’m useful, and I have a big bottle of water. Plus, one of my co-workers is on the South Beach Diet and was more than happy to share tips. (I am positive this isn’t the diet for me. No fruit? Chemical sweeteners? Not likely.) In general terms, life is good. At home, though –
I got home to no rice cakes (apparently, despite rent that includes groceries, I “need to pay for them myself”), an open bag of cheesecake cookies on the counter and sausage for dinner. My son was fed a sausage and a slice of buttered bread in front of me (all was offered without my consultation or course) and no vegetables. I’m sure he’ll have no problems at all when he has to make food choices on his own.
I decided to make the grocery trip a family outing/excuse for cardio, so I recruited the Boy and set up the bikes. But of course, my son would rather sit and watch teevee with his grandpa, so he threw a temper tantrum, thrashing against my chest and screaming as we tried to ride away. I won’t even mention the “peeing in the bath” incident when we got home except to note that we did not part for the night on good terms.
All I want is to exercise, eat healthy satisfying food and knit. Why is that too much to fucking ask??
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*