First, to the husbands of the wives who watched the video I posted on Friday, you are very welcome.
Second, if you don’t know why I’m saying what I said in the above paragraph, then I am truly very sorry that your wife is either: a. that dead on the inside; or b. spending too much time with the pool boy. Truly, very sorry.
Now, to those who can eat anything and everything without fear of reprisal (say in the form of a searing migraine or something), yet choose to turn your nose up at perfectly good food because it has the wrong texture, or the wrong color, or the wrong taste, I say to You:
Today has not been fun for me. I’m pretty sure I know what did it. I knew I shouldn’t eat it. But I get tired, sometimes, of having to fix different things for me than I do for my family. I get tired of having to avoid so many yummy things all the time. I just get tired of not being able to stuff my face full of food without having to read the labels and question everything, and turn down half of it.
And I hadn’t had a migraine in quite a while. I thought it would be o.k. I’ve heard that migraines tend to go away once a person hits 40, and, though I’m not there yet, I’m just a few years away. Of course, I also heard that acne clears up when you hit 18 and that never happened, so I don’t know why I hold out hope for the crap about migraines and 40.
I liken my situation to someone with schizophrenia. You know, once the proper meds and proper doses are all figured out and they’ve been on them for a while, they feel fine. They feel great. So then they start to question whether or not they actually need all of those pills and, sometimes, they decided they don’t.
Then they show up at church all stinky and disheveled because rows and rows of spiders started leaping viciously and in formation out of their bathroom mirror, and personal hygiene took a backseat to personal “safety.” And then someone convinces them to go back on those meds.
So I hadn’t had a migraine in quite a while. I started to think maybe I didn’t need to be so cautious. I threw caution to the wind. And, here is the kicker, it wasn’t even for something that good. I mean, it could at least have been a hot fudge sundae or some kind of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup mountain of a dessert, but no.
And so, this morning, I didn’t show up at church at all. I stayed home, all stinky and disheveled, on the couch, in the dark, popping Tylenol* every four hours and doing my best to sleep through the pain. It will be a long, long time before I am brave enough to throw caution to the wind and try eating like a “normal” person again. Maybe when I’m 40.
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.
*Here’s the real kicker: I can’t take the good stuff, like Excedrin Migraine, because I’m allergic (as in swell up and have difficulty breathing) to half the ingredients. If I didn’t have such a firm faith in God’s love for each of us, I’d say he had a cruel, twisted sense of humor when he put all my pieces parts together.