Tuesday, October 14, 2008

I'm not complaining but. . .

It's 6:54 p.m.

And that dinner that the nutritionist suggested be ready for the family at an earlier hour has been ready since exactly 5:30 p.m.

But there's a slight bump in the road. There's no vegetarian daughter home to eat the organic tomato bisque, and there's no husband or meat-eating daughter to gobble down the roast beef and cheddar paninis.

No, it's just the dog and me. . . and let me tell you, that dog would be happy to lap up a good meal!

And where are my daughters? We'll they skipped out of the house to go tanning at the exact moment I arrived home to start preparing dinner. Two hours later, when they had not returned, I called and heard, Oh, we stopped off at the coffee shop on the way home!

And the husband? Well I'm used to his timetable. I don't expect a call from him for a good hour anyway.

Oh, that nutritionist was right. We don't have eating disorders in our house.

No, we have "disordered" eating.