Me (to our two-year-old, while opening a pistachio nut): I shouldn’t be eating these. Pistachios make daddy fat.
Our Two-year-old: But daddy, you’re already fat.
Unfortunately it’s true. I’ve become more corpulent over the last year, despite my best efforts. Well, maybe because my best efforts included more chicken wings and beer than I care to admit.
However, I’ve consulted with a nutritionist who put me on a “plan” to make better “food choices.” The goal is to fit back into my size 34 pants by Christmas, size 32 by Lent.
My flabby belly is telling me that I’ve taken more than my fair share of food. To me, it feels downright sinful to have packed on a dozen or two extra pounds when roughly 30 000 children die PER DAY of malnutrition and related diseases.
I’ll keep you updated.