Yesterday one of my Facebook friends posted this photo:
Unfortunately for the most part, I friggin' hate fruits and vegetables. Okay, I like corn and broccoli, and I like zucchini, but only the way my mother or I make it. As far as bare fruits go, I'll eat watermelon and and blueberries. The other morning I cut up some cantaloupe and strawberries for Mike's kids and then showed them how much better they taste with chocolate syrup over them. Stepmother of the Year.
Forget bananas--my mother says I used to spit them out when I was a
baby. (Ironically, I'm addicted to Starbucks' banana walnut bread.)
Celery? You couldn't pay me a thousand dollars to eat a raw celery
When my kids were little, when offered a food they didn't care for, they would shake their heads and say, "I can't like that." I feel the same way when I look at that "I'm Eating Healthy" picture--I just can't like it.
Quite honestly, and I've written about this before, I find yoga people kind of annoying. But a couple of weeks ago I started taking a Yoga for Stress Relief class and I told the instructor right off the bat that I need this class because I'm about to kill somebody (remember those posts?) and now--I swear to God--I think I'm her favorite student because every time I see her she's super nice, and I don't mean super nice in that fake holistic yoga way. I mean she smiles at me like we have a secret handshake. Cool.
And then last week I overheard a woman tell the girl at the desk, "I need this. I'm a mess." I looked at her and said, "Sister, you are my new best friend." Then after class we went out for coffee and bagels--yeah, fattening bagels and cream cheese--and we had a great time bitching and swearing. It's so nice when you meet somebody who hates the same things you hate, no?
So not everybody who does yoga is annoying, and I'm not making judgments about people who like fruit and vegetables. I'm just saying they're not for me. I'm still a lovely person.
Oh, before I finish, I want to share this fond vegetable memory. When we were kids, my father would eat about four ears of corn and he'd always end up with kernels and greasy butter all over his face. Well, we thought it was hysterical and we'd giggle and point at him and he'd yell to my mother, "Jesus Christ, I'm trying to eat my goddamn corn and they're laughing at me!" Which would make us laugh even harder. Fond, fond memories.
One last thing. You know I'm the most politically incorrect person on earth, but don't you think it was a little cruel when they used to refer to people as "vegetables"? I mean, wow.
Honestly, I don't know how you can possibly comment on this one.