Playing with my mind.
I’m watching what I eat.
It’s not easy.
Today I took my kids to Chuck E Cheese.
The Skeeball game made me want Whoppers.
I thought the brown balls looked an awful lot like malt balls. I actually stood there, staring down at them, thinking about eating malt balls.
Some little girl snuck over while I was in my hypnotic state and stole 3 of my tickets out of the machine.
It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
Es quizá pollos del bebé del amor del cuz I. Es quizá cuz que leo a muchos de los postes de Neil sobre ellos. Es quizá cuz que estoy en una relación codependant con los cereales azucarados. Por cualquier razón. No puedo encontrar una manera que tengo gusto de los huevos por la mañana. Cualquier cosa bueno sobre los huevos para el desayuno está cancelada hacia fuera cuando usted omite la tostada mantecosa de la mezcla. ¿Cómo usted los monstruos bajos del carb lo hace?
I have a problem.
I have an unholy love for cereal. It’s unnatural. While every other grown up has moved on to coffee for their morning meal, I find myself sitting on the carpet, in front of the TV (usually watching cartoons) eating a bowl of cereal. And it’s not a healthy, good for you cereal, it’s the kind of cereal good moms won’t buy their kids because it’s laden with sugar.
I’ve tried eggs for breakfast, they are better for you, keep you fuller longer. I’ve tried oatmeal (cereal’s ugly step sister). Toast. McDonald’s. But nothing compares to the crunchy goodness of a bowl of Apple Jacks, Honey Smacks, Fruit Loops, Lucky Charms, Golden Grahams, Cookie Crisp, Co-Co Pebbles, Cap’n Crunch, Co-Co Puffs, Honey Combs, Alpha Bits (with marshmallows), Boo Berry, Count Chocula, Franken Berry Crunch, Corn Pops, or Trix.
All right. I gotta go eat.
Would you eat it in a box?
Barefoot Amish. Kettle corn. Fire roasted ox from a spit.
Every year in Middlefield there’s an Ox Roast. They have tons of tents of vendors. Every year I go, I eat BBQ Ox (If you’ve never had it… you should.), I buy something old I don’t need, (This year it was a Webster’s Dictionary from 1912), and I get some fresh fruit. As an added bonus my kids terrorized some amish.
I love the Middlefield Ox Roast!
Wildlife.
My girls have discovered a patch of wild strawberries. In a field next to our house. They are quite tiny, and a different shade of red, but very sweet.
They are only about the size of a dime.
But still are quite good. It’s funny how they taste nothing like the strawberries you find in a store.
I wonder why they don’t sell wild strawberries?
Maybe because they can’t tame them?
