There’s a cookout at our house tonight if you’re in the neighborhood. Yes, a cookout on a work night, which will make me feel like the holiday weekend is four days long rather than three days long.
I have no problem with that.
It’s just hamburgers, brats, potato salad from Fareway (who needs homemade? Fareway rocks!), chips and dip and if I am feeling generous, maybe I'll clean some carrots for that dip as well. Probably blueberries by the handful for anyone feeling fruity.
It’s a pretty simple menu, but this isn’t a dinner party with candles and a tablecloth. Someone is bringing dessert, so it will be a surprise. I only hope it isn’t sugar-free.
That doesn’t sound gracious, but I just don’t eat sugar-free food and I hate it when it is foisted upon me. Like Jell-o. Do you realize that one of the best places to buy already made Jell-o is when you’re down at the hospital? But did you also realize that some places like hospitals and cafeterias don’t specify sugar-free when they sell it to you? I think that’s a crime and something should be done.
There is a Wendy’s by my office and when you order a baked potato you get fake butter that isn’t even margarine. It’s the heart-healthy stuff. You also get fake sour cream – low-fat or something like that. Again…a crime because that’s ALL they serve. You do not have a choice. My body wants the real deal stuff so it knows what to do with it.
I’m all for a substitute if that’s your thing. I just don’t like it being forced on me because I don’t like that stuff. So it would be like feeding hamburger to a vegetarian and telling them it is meat substitute. Not funny. I get a tummy ache from that fake fat and sugar-free stuff.
And we’re talking about a tummy ache that makes me go home. So yea, if you want me to go home, feed me some sugar-free Jell-o.
You know what I hope dessert is? Unfrosted cake! I may be the only person who makes cake and then doesn’t frost it. I get along well with children at birthday parties because they lick the frosting off their cakes and I eat their naked cake. Then I scrape my frosting off and divide it among the children present.
Or if one kid is lucky enough to be sitting next to me, I will slide it onto her plate and she wins the frosting lottery. Their parents love me.
Unless it's buttercream. Then you're on your own and if you touch my plate, I will stab you in the head with my fork.
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Last January or February, back when we were in winter’s death grip, I decided to forego 5k runs this year. I'm not sure why I decided that.
Fast forward to July and I registered a few days ago for a 5k right here in my own ‘hood. If I had a lock, I would ride my bike. I could walk to the starting line. Maybe I should. Or not. Probably not.
Anyway, here’s hoping I don’t kill myself. I have 40 minutes exactly to finish it before my niece’s 1-mile race begins. This means I have to run. My best 5k time is something like 30 minutes plus a few seconds. Last year I think every 5k got a better time than the previous, but I don’t remember finishing in less than 30.
I'll be sure to let you know so none of you burn with curiousity all weekend. I know how you are about curiousity.