I’ve always been a skinny guy, despite the fact that I make no efforts to watch what I eat, and I rarely exercise on purpose. It has amused me over the last 10 years or so to be able to declare that I weigh the same as I did in high school. For some reason, the people I say this to don’t often seem to appreciate how awesome this is. In fact, more often than not their response has been, “I hate you, Rob,” or, “You suck, Rob,” or, “Stop posting your pie recipes on my weight loss blog, Rob.” I really don’t understand people sometimes.
Lois and I took Buzz and Rocky the other day to the Museum of Ancient Life at Thanksgiving Point. They have a large platform scale, big enough for around 10 people to stand on at once and it will tell you which dinosaur you weigh the same as. When I stepped on with Rocky, I was mildly surprised to discover that we tipped the scale to 210 pounds, which was only 30 pounds short of the Herrerasaurus. Rocky doesn’t look like he weighs 60 pounds, but he is rather tall for a three year old. What has Lois been feeding him anyway? Rocky quickly got bored of standing on the platform for some reason, so he ran off to growl at a nearby Gargoyleosaurus. This is where I went from mildly surprised to “What the…buh, wha?!?”. The needle should have gone below Protoceratops (158 pounds), but it stopped well above him and was getting rather cozier than I thought appropriate with Tanycolagreus (180 pounds).
This cannot be. I weigh the same as I did in high school, but I didn’t weigh 170 in high school. The large bold letters in the middle of the scale proclaiming, “No Springs – Honest Weight” suddenly took on a mocking tone, which I found rather annoying.
How did this happen? Has the Pastrami Burger finally turned on me? Or is it the fries? Surely not my Westerner sandwich? Yes, it has two meats, but how can something as delicious as beef brisket with Polish sausage be bad for you? The whole thing is really a mystery. Lois thinks I put too much cheese on my omelets, but I’d like to see you make a seven egg omelet with less than half a pound of cheese. Sure you could do it, but then you might as well just give it to the dog, and why are you making omelets for your dog anyway? But the most important question is, why do all my pants still fit?
Okay, I suppose I’m not getting any younger, and I may have developed one or two bad eating habits. But I really like my eating habits, which sounds a lot like eating rabbits and now I really want some hasenpfeffer. Argh, no! I think it may be time to go cold turkey, which also sounds really delicious, especially if it were on an onion roll with swiss cheese, mayo and mustard. And some pastrami. Gah! This is not helping, and I could really go for two or three helpings right about now.
My calendar says that tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, which is the beginning of Lent which, according to my limited understanding of Catholic customs, is a tradition in which you choose a bad habit to give up for 40 days. Then, I suppose at the end of the 40 days it’s party time again. I’m not currently Catholic, but perhaps I could give this Lent thing a try. Lois’s crazy Vegan diet is supposed to make people lose 10 pounds within the first three weeks. I’m not going to be a Vegan, because we all know that Vegans are, I say, crazy. But I’m going to act like a Vegan for 40 days starting tomorrow. It will definitely be a challenge, but I suspect the crazy will find me after just a few days, and I’m counting on that to keep me going for the duration.
This means no meat and no dairy. And apparently, no Dr. Pepper. I very patiently explained to Lois that there’s not a trace of meat or dairy in Dr. Pepper, and it even has real juice in it (somewhere). But no, she insists that while not technically forbidden under the Vegan by-laws, sodas and anything with refined sugar are on the naughty list if I really intend to make this experiment work. She also says that I should put in some exercise while I’m at it, but this is where I remind you that Lois is a Vegan and, therefore, crazy.
I am going to allow myself to cheat a little bit. I’m going to be traveling on business for a few days later this month and my company pays for my meals when I travel. And well, when The Man is picking up the check, I’m having prime rib and lobster and I don’t care who knows it. And probably cheesecake. And while I’m cheating anyway, I find that a nice Dr. Pepper pairs well with those particular culinary items.
Aside from that, I fully expect to make it through without even a… hang on, I just remembered that I still have some gruyere in the fridge. It’s not quite midnight yet… time enough for a grilled cheese. Hmm, I don’t think I can make it in time if I go out for a Dr. Pepper run. Well, it’ll still be Tuesday somewhere by the time I get back. Bye.