Thursday, July 9, 2009
I don't think he's ever gonna get it...
Another conversation with the hubby. Trying to figure out where to go for dinner with foodie friend (husband only). I just got a fill today, so I'm on liquids only. I decide I could use some clam chowder (minus the clams, of course... and potatoes... and celery -- so I guess it's just cream). Goes something like this:
HIM: We could go to that little seafood place not far from here. I think on Thursdays they have all-you-can-eat crab.
ME: Omg, please don't put me through that [I LOVE crab, btw].
HIM: What? Won't it bother you no matter what we eat?
ME: Yes, somewhat, but that one is really hard for me.
HIM: [Prattles on with some mindless mumbling and kvetching about who-the-hell-knows-what cuz lord knows I never pay attention to him. Just ask him.]
He goes outside to smoke while foodie friend is on the phone.
I go outside and ask him what the hell his problem is, because it's very obvious nowadays that, as usual, his support of me has waned. He asks what I'm talking about. I tell him that he seems to get less tolerant of my needs as time goes on, like my band is crimping his style (which it MAY be, but that shouldn't be made my problem since I'm the one who has this strangling piece of plastic in my body, limiting what I can have).
It's not like he can't go do whatever he wants. Once or twice, against my better judgment, I have even gone where he wanted to go (can anybody say Golden Corral??) and regretted it.
I told him that about the six-month mark he ALWAYS does this. He even did it when I was dieting. He'd be okay for that long, and then he'd start pouting and acting stupid. Well, MORE stupid.
And here, foodie friend and hubby are talking food, consistency of food, crunch of food, taste of food, density of food, color of food, smell of food, texture of food... I mean, it goes on and on. It's like they're describing the artwork in the Sistine Chapel or the Venus de Milo, for cryin' out loud. WTF is it with these people and FOOD??? Like some people can separate themselves from cigarettes if they stop cold turkey and then are not around it for a time, I truly believe I could be that way with food, if not for these foodaholics around me constantly. GRRR!!!
It may come to a point, if he insists on dragging me down with him of saying something I heard on Dr. Phil yesterday [insert groan here, I know, I know...]: I would rather be healthy without you than sick with you.
Because, frankly, he really doesn't get it.
Oh, and on that note, I told foodie husband friend that I got the band. He was asking about why I was on liquids, and I decided to tell him. I'll tell his wife tomorrow when I see her (we're going to Ocean City for the weekend, and I'll be on liquids, then mushies, the entire trip. Figured it was a good time to say something.) because, maybe if they know what I'm REALLY GOING THROUGH, they'll give me some slack.
Now, if only I could get through to my human garbage disposal.
Posted by Beth at 11:01 PM