I just had a moment, but I’m okay now. Still, I’d like to vent. My husband eats everything. I feel like I’m always hungry because he not only wipes out our fridge, he likes to do clean sweeps and is constantly pitching soggy salad I really don’t mind eating. I mean, what else am I gonna eat, right? I always expect the one thing I look forward to at the end of the day to not be there when I get home, but I have yet to become inured by my everlasting disappointment.
Since we conceived this crying one-year old, I’ve been very controlled about what I eat. I’m not a big meat eater, so I force-fed myself protein the entire forty-one weeks. I’m also in the service, so I had to prepare for a PT test in which salad and more protein was my best friend for a year. I get chips here and there, but not a one piece touches my lips due my husband’s apparent need for them. Whatever. Who needs chips when trying to attain pre-baby weight anyway? Two nights ago, I discovered (again) that my chips were gone. I made a joke about it, which prompted him to get a new bag. Fast forward to today. On this day, I had broccoli and a protein bar. On my way home, I was getting a hunger headache so I thought “Hmph, I kinda want some dip.” I wanted creamy, cheesy, jalapeño dip a neighbor of mine made one Super Bowl, which I skulked her Pinterest for, salivating over the sinfully smooth recipe snapshots.