A few weeks ago, Caedmon had to go to the doctor for his 3-year check-up. While in the waiting room, I had the rare opportunity to read a short paragraph in a pointless interview of a pointless pop star. The question was, "What relationship is there between music education and math testing scores, and what kind of neurological connections do you believe exist between music and math in the minds of elementary-age children?"
Oh, ho ho. I almost got you, didn't I?
Of course that wasn't the question. It was more along the lines of "*gushgushgush* Ohmygosh you're so skinny! How do you stay so thin?! *squeal*"
Obviously, it was not the question that piqued my interest; instead, it was her answer: (paraphrasing) "I dunno, I've just never been that into eating."
What? What? What? <-------- This is me, dumbfounded.
What does that even mean? How can one "not be into eating?" How? How? How?
I'm hoping you understand my bafflement. I spent a long time in a wilful state of disbelief that Patrick Henry actually yelled, "Give me cookies or give me death!" It's always made more sense to me than that "liberty" line, anyway.
I like to think I come by it honestly. I grew up in a house that threw "Crap Night" parties (now just keep reading, it's not what you might think) where all the guests brought their favorite kind of "crap" food (cookies, cakes, every kind of chip and dip you could ever imagine), then stood around and ate and talked all night. If everyone was feeling really wild we'd play Forks (which is like Spoons only more dangerous, 'cause that's how we roll). This was my family's idea of fun. If you'd dropped this starlet into our midst, we either would have done our level best to stuff her face full of delicious crap or simply chopped her up and made her into yet another delightful dip. (Oh, I'm kidding. She'd be way too stringy and tough for our tastes.)
Of course both my parents now have Type II diabetes. It would be easy to blame the Crap, but the truth is neither of my parents ate like that on a regular basis, they're both very diligent about exercise, and neither are even the slightest bit overweight, which means my sisters and I basically lost the genetic lottery and I may actually have to make a Cookies or Death decision one day.
I don't even remember where I was going with this. All I know is I really want Scotcharoos (a dessert I discovered in Iowa!) now.