Dad: No thanks, but I’ll wrestle you for them.
Drats! Foiled again!
Sauron-wrap
Sir Anwrap
We were having a very deep discussion about plans for the future. Kids, marriage, etc. She says, "don't freak out or anything, I'm not rushing."
"Of course not," I said, "you're Ukrainian."
She pointed to the door and said, "get out!"
Hey guys. As I'm sure most of you know, it's currently Thanksgiving in Canada. This time of year for me has, in the past, caused a lot of issues in my life.
To give a little bit of background on me, I'm usually an extremely healthy and fit guy, as I play high-level sports and have a physically demanding job. However, for much of my life, my willpower began to crumble around this time of year.
I first started taking my diet seriously when I was about 12 years old. I had some kind of realization where like, I dunno, I started looking at how jacked these movie stars were and was all, "wow, I want to be that cool too." Judging by the bowl cut I had when I was 12, my perception of cool may have been a little skewed, but I digress.
Anyhow, it was my first Thanksgiving where everything started falling apart. One of my relative's families ended up no-showing for dinner, so we were left with a load of Thanksgiving leftovers. For the next week, every single meal or snack I had was Thanksgiving themed. Sandwich? Turkey sandwich. Breakfast? Let's dollop some cranberry sauce on that bad boy. By the next week, my BGC (blood gravy content) was probably at like 1.0%.
You'd think I'd be sick of holiday food after that. But no. I loved it.
The tradition of refrigerated Thanksgiving snacks continued throughout the rest of my teen years. Like clockwork, the numbers on the scale would significantly jump upwards in October, with Halloween candy adding an extra layer of calories on top. By the time I reached 17, my waist had begun noticeably ballooning, and I realized it was all due to Thanksgiving turkey. Sure, I had some at Christmas and sometimes at Easter, but never like that. My mother would encourage this habit, making more food each year to be stuffed into our packed refrigerator.
The movie star bod I wanted for so much at the age of 12 was slipping a way. I needed to put an end to this.
Flash forward to October 2015, age 18. I had made a vow: I never again would place such putrid poultry onto my tastebuds. And ever since that fateful week of 2014, my vow had held true.
Each Thanksgiving, I can feel that craving for chilled turkey knocking on the refrigerator door of my fragile ego. For three years, I've held strong. But when will the garrison fall? When will that soft, biting flesh of the big bird smash it's way back into my life.
But so far, I've quit cold turkey.
So last night we were at a carnival type thing and there was a food truck there called "town name Bite Me" where we ordered some pizza.
Anyway, I pretended I couldn't see the sign and asked her what it said. She just responded with "Bite me", so that is exactly what I did. I was awarded a couple of weird looks and a colossal eye roll.
Cut to this morning: I got up to find my better half talking to my mum. She was eating some leftover pizza while I walked up behind her, unnoticed. Mum asked where we got the pizza. Once again, she replied "bite me" so like a lion I went for the kill. I got dealt some swift justice for that one.
At dinner before senior prom (not recent) my girlfriend and her friends and I were all talking about how excited were to eat because of how little food we had had earlier that day. I said that I only had two hotdogs, and one of her friends said that she only had some leftovers, to which my girlfriend replied, "Yeah, I only had half my Olive Garden... So like a lot of olives." I lost my shit.
Mom: I gave the dog some leftovers from last night. Did he eat that plate?
Dad: No. He ate all of the food but left the plate. screams HEY, EAT THAT PLATE.
I was washing dishes with my dad, and had cleaned ~4 plates caked with egg residue on them. "How long have these been dirty?" I asked. A few minutes later I was washin a baking pan and it was impossible to get the leftover food off of it. Aggravated, I exclaimed "What did you make on here, eggs too?!"
My dad said "No, those are still from eggs one."
Dad: "The only Chinese food I don't like eating as leftovers is Egg Foo Yung."
Me: "Why's that?"
Dad: "Because then it's Egg Foo Old."
Me: http://imgur.com/snImm6i
Gf is putting the leftovers in individual containers
GF: I separated the food.
Me: why were they fighting again?
She hates me.
