Personal blog of christian
writer & fallible mom
Katy McKenna Raymond
in Kansas City, Missouri
Katy is represented by
Rachelle Gardner at
WordServe Literary
Read more Katy at
LateBoomer.net
Recent Posts
- Soul Train
- Live Out Your Dream And Discard The Box
- Tears In A Bottle
- From The Young Mom I Once Was, To You
- I Can’t Help Falling
- What A Difference Ten Years Makes
- The Next Best Thing To Robert Redford
- The Memory Keeper’s Daughter
- Where Have All The Years Gone
- Fun With Kiki Cullen
- Stuck On Mom
- Ten Years Later, Our Girls From Northern Ireland Remembered
- The Thrift of Grief
- Job Security
- The Party’s Over
Syndicate
E me at katy @ ngenius.com
Repentance
I’ve been following a completely sugar-free, reduced-carb diet for approximately 2372.5 days, give or take an hour or two.
Who’s counting, you ask? Normally, no one. Not even me, really. I stopped counting after the first 24 monthiversaries, that’s how NOT O/C I am. Doug, on the other hand, is suddenly aware of every hour that passes with me in a carb-controlled zone.
Why? Because, just for fun, he’s attempting it himself for a tiny 24 hours. Maybe 36, if his nerve holds.
My dear husband, you see, is addicted to bread. And toast. And bagels and croissants, both in their toasted and untoasted forms. Did I mention plain old toast? Just so you know, the man consumes upwards of eight slices of toast per day, not counting any of his other floury delights.
It was about this time yesterday that he ate his last toast. You’d think someone died. When I ask him how he’s doing, he says, “Life is barely worth living.”
Tell me about it.
He’s repented for a number of sins over the past 24 hours. Fasting will do that to a man. Without comfort foods to satiate the beast within, the intentions and failures of the heart become plainer than the butter on your face.
“I’m sorry for the six and one-half years worth of pizzas I’ve eaten in front of you,” he says. “And especially for describing how great the crust was, how it melted in my mouth after I crunched into its parmesan-coated outsides.”
“I forgive you, honey,” I say, but who knows for sure whether a man in his condition is truly contrite or only using the occasion of his abstinence to dream aloud of his favorite foods?
“And I’m truly sorry for all the french bread, lasagne, manicotti, burritoes,the Pringles, Doritoes, the Hot Pockets, the mashed potatoes, and the Rice-A-Roni.”
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Does he have to write me a grocery list?
“Babe, really, it’s fine,” I say. “I know you didn’t mean it. You couldn’t possibly have known how hard it was for me to watch you eat all those foods when I couldn’t have—”
“When this experiment is over, I promise you, things will be different around here. I’ll be a changed man….”
“That’s so sweet, Doug—”
“Life is short, Katy. Forget toast. From now on, I’m eating dessert first.”
Katy, I absolutely LOVE your writing. You make me smile every time (unless you’re making me cry.)
That’s all. : )
Posted by Deb Raney on 06/21/06 at 08:27 AMDeb—I absolutely LOVE your writing, too! Only there’s so much more of yours to love! You are a lovely encouragement to me. Thank you. :)
Posted by Katy on 06/23/06 at 07:07 AMIf only men had those same fat & water retaining hormones that WE do. Life’s not fair…boo hoo.
You are so funny! Loved the post.
hugs,
V.Posted by Vicki on 07/01/06 at 01:58 PM
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