I don't mind fast food. I think it's really tasty, even though it's not really good for you, and I don't quite know if it qualifies as "food." When you were basically raised on it your whole life, you think it's fantastic. But even I understand that relying on it, which is what I did while my parents were away, gets to be boring. So it was great to see that tonight, Mother made my favorite dish of hers. I don't know if it's pho exactly or some kind of rice noodle dish, but it was so damn good, like it has been ever since I could put noodles in my mouth.
The down side to eating so good is that your tummy is beyond full. I mean, it's a good full, but you're not going to be moving around a whole lot, at least well, for a while. In fact, as I've gotten older, I have had a more difficult time putting away the whole bowl, soup and all. (I am the only one in my family, and possibly one of the very few people in this world, who drinks all the soup, too. Done it my whole life. That's the best part!)
But I had no trouble tonight (Saturday night), probably because it's been almost half a year since I had that damn good broth. And as soon as I was done I plopped myself onto my bed, turned on the great Patriots-Bastard Cleveland Browns game, and slept through part of it (but not where they scored the touchdowns, thank God).
One thing about eating this soup, however. A while after eating it, I often get this strange craving to eat some more. Not necessarily the soup, although I don't mind it, but something. And this is while I'm not hungry. I'm not full, or at least not overstuffed. But any feeling that I couldn't eat anymore is soon gone, and I want to shove some food down my throat again.
That happened around 9 o'clock, about three hours after I finished the rice noodle soup. I planned on working on the huge pile of laundry in my hamper, so I walked downstairs to start a load of clothes. But the downstairs refrigerator was there, so I opened it up to see if My Father put in any snacks in the freezer. He did -- Dove bars. Hell yeah, I'll eat it.
And they too were great. It was chocolate in the inside, so it was a chocolate shell surrounding chocolate ice cream, which means it was awesome. But ... oh, my stomach! I went from "I know I'm full, but at the same time I'm hungry" to way beyond full. And once again, I follow up something excellent to eat with something else excellent to eat, but because I ate them back-to-back I kind of ruined the taste of both. I was kind of out of commission for a while.
Until midnight. Thought that the Dove bar would have been made me good for the rest of the night, but that's when I had the urge to eat again. I had been meaning to start working on the 2% milk I bought before my parents came home, which I bought so I could pair with the cereal I bought at K-Mart before it closed down. I decided not to pass it up; instead I went for it. I ate the cereal (even though I was surprised my folks used so much of the 2% milk I wound up using the rest; guess we're still at the point in our lives where I shouldn't complain they're using my milk and they won't complain that I'm eating their dessert) and, as usual, the Frosted Flakes tasted pretty good. And unlike the Dove bar, I have less guilt eating three things over the course of one evening.
So now I worry about my expanding waistline. I will eat so well with my parents cooking, but that unfortunately means I'll be getting fatter. I've been good at keeping it down while they've been away; from my high more than a year ago of around 170, I think I'm hovering either at or below 160, at least according to the scale I was on last week when I had my physical. But that might be all blown to hell now that I get to eat at home. Hopefully I'll be able to control myself when it comes to eating portions.
Nah, I probably won't.
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