I’m on a mission to eat healthy and help my family to eat healthy. Today is day three of this endeavor…. and I’m all out of healthy food!!
There are several “staples” I routinely buy at the store whether I’m dieting or not: onions, carrots, celery, lettuce, apples and bananas. Also, every time I grocery shop, I buy a large carton of non-fat, large-curd cottage cheese…. to “house” in my fridge… to throw out unopened well after its expiration date. I like cottage cheese, but I never want to eat it. There’s has to be some yet-to-be-named neurosis associated with that!
As a mother and lord of my kitchen, I am amazed and ashamed that I don’t instinctively stock the house with at least 3 full days of healthy food. Where does the stuff I buy go? Apparently, my “keep-it-fresh” refrigerator drawer, dark and uninviting, is where most of the fruit and vegetables I buy go… to rot.
For lunch yesterday, I wanted to make homemade vegetable soup from the “produce department” in my kitchen. I found a shrunken onion, dried-out brown garlic on the top of my stove and garlic ball growing into a giant squid in a storage jar. In the “vegetable graveyard” moldy refrigerator drawer, I found flaccid celery, hairy carrots and a bag of slime labeled “favorite greens.” I salvaged three bald carrots and used a lot of canned beans instead.
So, “vegetable-less,” I made whole-wheat spaghetti for dinner and portioned it out for my husband, Fred, daughter and I.
Fred looked at me like I had a squirrel on my face.
“Is there any more?” he asked, as Winnie the Pooh.
“Yes, but that’s one serving.” I said, amazed myself now.
Apparently for the last, oh, 15 years, everyone in my house has been having “servings per container” as a single portion-size.
Last night for a treat, we made sugar-free-fat-free strawberry mousse. It looked and smelled good:
“You know, if you want to improve this, you could add some fresh fruit on top.” Fred suggested, not knowing what to do with the “floofy”, styrofoamy mousse in his mouth. I would have, but the bananas were flat and black and my apples, wrinkled and squashy.
“Thisth-isth-thick” my daughter said. Maybe I whipped it too long?
With no more “good” food in the house, what we have plenty of, for a change, is junk. The longer junk is in my house, the more dangerous it becomes. Maybe I could hang a flag on my front door with a big “JP” on it (for “Junk Purge”), and some nice junk-deprived camp could come and take all my delicious chips, salty crispy crackers, succulent cheese-its and….
Oh, have a hairy carrot, Heidi!