Enter the mind of an obsessive compulsive, anal retentive women in the city. She's turning 30, has a pantry and an uncontrollable need to feed everyone she meets.
Yes, that's citygirl, buying all those loaves of hallah.
Published on May 11, 2004 By citygirl In Home & Family
So my frog died.

I have a frog at work. He keeps me company. His name was Clyde. I received him during a time when I started feeling a bit bored at work. I'm still bored but that's another story.

I called in sick yesterday and apparently he didn't take to that too well. I'll clean him out in a while. For now, I'm just staring at his bloated carcass.

I wrote to my hubby to tell him the news. I also told him that one of his betta fish keeled over.

He responded, "One of my fish died?" Not even a, sorry for your frog. Eh. He wasn't close to him anyway.

I'm back at work less than an hour and I'm already thinking about lunch. There was a brief period between 11am and 11:20am where I didn't think about it. I was in a meeting. But it is now, 11:30am and I'm wondering if Wendy's or a Deli sandwich will be served.

I love food. I seriously love my meals. I enjoy sitting at a table and leisurely enjoying my meals. Unfortunately, most of my lunches involve trying not to spill dressing on my keyboard. Even so, I have been diligent and have tried to stop working during lunch. I have stopped lunch mid-way to deal with system downtime but then I make sure I pick up where I left off without lifting a manual or checking my email.

My hubby is the complete opposite. He's constantly inhaling his food. When we entertain, he can't just sit and enjoy his food. He has to get up and get a dvd or a drink or what not. Even at our wedding, he left the reception to pick up a ginger ale for his stepdad. My mother complained that he's not addressing his bride's needs. I did feel a bit neglected but I chalked his running around as nervousness. [For gosh sakes, he ran up to the top of the staircase while I was standing there because he forgot his battery for the camera.]

But my hubby cannot eat in portions. It's an all or nothing ride for him. A loaf of bread used to be devoured within a day from the grocery store. I swear, he could sit on the couch with a hallah under his arm like a football and be quite content with life. Since he's been trying to lose weight, he's toned down on the loaf eating. But he's just as ravenous with raisins, nuts and chocolate.

For mom's day, I made potatoes au gratin and a roast. At the end of the dinner, there was one serving of au gratin left. Fred took claim of that gratin as if he was Daffy Duck in that cave filled with treasures. "Mine. Mine. Mine. Down. Down. Down." While we were all enjoying a nice parfait for dessert, he was in the kitchen devouring the gratin.

If we have kids, I would like to be able to sit down and enjoy a meal. I'm a huge supporter of sit down meals, especially with children. There is too much multi-tasking in the world to multi-task meals. But the images I have frighten me. Imagine:

A husband who won't sit down or eat those tree trunks that accompany the broccoli tops. (Yes, he calls them broccoli tops.)
A child sitting with a gameboy in one hand and a fork in the other while another pulls the 'tree trunks' off the broccoli tops and puts them on my plate, just like dad.
And to end the night of family dining, me picking up peas from under the table while dad and kids are sitting on the couch watching the latest episode of extreme something with a hallah tucked under their arms. And all would be content.

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