“Don’t die on me, ’cause you know how the house looked after the hurricane? That’s how me and [The Little Lady] would be living all the time. And all that expired, canned food that I had? That’s what we’d be eating. We just be ‘batchin’.”
And with those words, my husband eloquently (or not) let me know that he wouldn’t be able to make it without me. His pronouncement came after I chided him for letting our daughter eat a bite of food DIRECTLY OFF OF THE FLOOR — a morsel that he himself had dropped. (mashed potatoes, in case you were wondering) Apparently, he didn’t realize that such an act did not constitute good manners.
Now, after hearing his reasons for needing me, I am stressed about living. This is an oddity for me as I have never been one to worry about my over-all health or my number of years on this earth. But, here I am, sluggishly sitting on our worn-out couch, worrying about the excessive amount of caffeine I drink and the unnecessary sweets I ingest. Oh yeah — and the amount of exercising that I am NOT doing. That’s right, my great “Running Adventure” stopped a few weeks ago . . . without a replacement activity.
Wait, isn’t STRESS bad for your health too? Great — just one more thing shaving years off of my life-expectancy. Thank you very much, Mr. HUBBY!
For the sake of my toddler — ’cause she certainly doesn’t need to “batching” during her childhood — I need to make changes. I don’t want my child eating expired food off of dirty surfaces, and I do not want her to sleep on the same set of sheets the rest of her life (because I’m SURE the Hubby won’t bother washing them).
Running? You’re back in my life; I’m sure we’ll have a blast. Stress? You’re gone. Caffeine? You’re out the door. Chocolate? You’re out too.
Well . . . maybe the Chocolate can stay. . . at least for a little while longer.
