Home > Food & Things That Make Me Fat, The Wife (previously RY) > And don’t get me started on the fresh baked cookies she bakes but doesn’t eat.

And don’t get me started on the fresh baked cookies she bakes but doesn’t eat.

RY and I are scheduled to attend “Cliterature”, which is a poetry/arty thing in Kitchener, last Saturday. RY makes an appointment to get her hair done in the early afternoon.
In the morning, we have yoghurt with blackberries and bran buds for breakfast (yes, I’m of the age where I eat bran buds) and go to the gym. Then we do some errands and finally we get to the salon. I go to read my book while she’s primping and to get some late lunch as we likely won’t eat again that day. I ask RY if she wants me to pick something up for her too. She says no and asks me to bring her a smoothie from the juice bar.
So I do.
On the way to Kitchener, she tells me she’s hungry. I suggest I stop at Tim Horton’s for a sandwich and she agrees. Before we hit the Tim Horton’s, she spies a McDonalds and tells me to stop there, which is weird because she doesn’t normally like McDonald’s. If she splurges on a fast food hit, it’s usually BK.
We go through the drive through and she says she wants a Big Mac meal. I figure that although I’m not really hungry, I’ll grab a Big Mac because we won’t eat again today and I don’t want to be hungry at night.
As we pull away, she eats the fries, stuffing a few in my direction every other mouthful. I eat my Big Mac.
Then she takes a bite of her Big Mac and realizes she’s eating fast food and that would negate the effects of her workout this morning and what was she thinking?!
So after one bite, she gives me her Big Mac and says “I don’t want this. Eat it.”
Um… no. That would mean that she’s had a yoghurt and 6 fries all day and I’ve had the equivalent of a small heffer.
This may be why my pants don’t fit anymore.
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