“While the cats away, the mice will play” is how the old idiom goes. My hubby, who had reached the point of no return in stir craziness, having been cooped up in the Little House for the last week and a half, sneaked away to visit a friend of his while I was at work yesterday. Although I was a bit nervous about his little venture in to the real world, I realized he wasn’t ready to leave the planet just yet and probably wouldn’t do anything too stupid, so with a huge prayer to the Lord above I wished him well and went to pick up the Crazys from school.
Now, you are probably thinking I was the cat in this scenario, but you would be wrong, the cat was actually my hubby and the Crazys and I the mice. On the way home from school we needed to go vote and return a Blu-Ray and this little adventure took us right past the pizza joint we pre-heart attack visited weekly – my weekly turn a blind eye to preservatives dinner that we all inhaled without even a second thought to what it was doing to our insides. Anyhow, I digress, we were in the minivan headed home when the oldest boy Crazy spies the pizza joint and longingly asks,
“Wouldn’t it be great to have that unhealthy goodness for dinner tonight?” (Yes, he did actually say unhealthy goodness)
Well, I had to admit I too had been craving a nice box of cheesy pie; so I declared, “If Daddy eats out tonight, we’ll have pizza.”
A mere hour later the hubby called to let me know he was eating at his friend’s house. Once again, I wished him well and told him to make smart choices and informed the Crazys – “Its pizza night.” – there were hurrahs all around.
Then the oldest boy Crazy, you know the one who suggested the unhealthy goodness in the first place, nervously asked, “What’s Daddy having for dinner?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “but hopefully he will make good choices.” Then off to the pizza joint I headed.
On the way there I started thinking about the layers of grease that would be floating atop my pizza, and my stomach started to turn. After weeks of happy heart eating would this pizza even taste good? Will it be too salty? Will the Crazys enjoy it as much as they think they’re going to? Suddenly, the soy sausage zucchini bake we were going to have for dinner sounded much better. Never-the-less, I continued on to the pizza joint. Walking in I realized the last time I had stepped foot into this joint had been two weeks ago, the night my hubby had his heart attack, now the cheesy goodness was seeming more and more like sat-fat filled cheesy not-so-goodness. This, however, did not stop me from ordering our regular.
At home the Crazys anxiously awaited my arrival with the table already set. I had barely set the box down, when they began to dig in, and after a few chews I posed the question –
“Well, what do you think? Is it as good as you had hoped?”
The vote was split, the two boy Crazys were completely pleased. The girl Crazy and me – not so much. To be honest, the sat-fats were definitely not agreeing with me, all the cheesy goodness wasn’t really all that good, and my slice of pizza felt like a brick in the pit of my stomach. I was truly missing the heart happy food of the last two weeks. After we finished our sat-fat filled artery clogging dinner, the hubby called and told me he had had a nice meal of salmon and salad – I was very jealous. I promised myself right then and there, from now on the Little House serves only heart friendly meals. After all, after only two weeks of healthy goodness my skin was glowing and I could pull my jeans down without unbuttoning them – Can you say shopping spree?
So from now on when I start thinking a nice cheesy pie sounds good, I’m going to remember my stomach ache and the pimple I swear formed before the end of the meal, and just start chanting my new mantra – “shopping spree, shopping spree, shopping spree”
Unit next time, enjoy your adventure.