Food Fight!

You are probably thinking that I am going to regale you with the many high school adventures I had with food fights.  Firstly you would be incorrect as we never had food fights in my high school cafeteria.  Secondly, I can’t throw straight!  (You can confirm that with my dart-playing partner.)  So, what food fight am I referring to?  Let me gently guide you back to your childhood for this one.  If that part of your life has bad memories then you can easily relate while watching (your) children.  Here we go.

Close your eyes and think back to a time when you were playing with your brother or sister or cousin or neighbourhood kid.  Now, recall when a bag of chips came out.  The bag was cautiously opened by an adult to ensure minimum spillage.  The glorious contents of the bag were then deployed into an awaiting cavernous bowl.  YES!  Junk food!  Chips!  Woo hoo!  You would think this would be an amazing event and all would be happy.  NOT! Why?  Well, if there was a younger (spoiled) sibling it got ruined.  Who got the biggest chip?  Who got the chip with the most flavour toppings on it?  Once you got down to the end of the bowl, how could it be divided evenly?  Does this sound like your family?  Chips were a special food group in our humble abode.  Now, let’s ramp up the crazy and discuss the genius solution that my brother and I came up with in order to ensure equality.

Me:  There aren’t too many chips in this bag.

Bro:  I know.

Me:  Our two cousins are here so we need to make sure we share or we’ll get in trouble.

Bro:  I know!  Let’s crush the chips so there’s more of ’em!

Me:  Great idea!

Well, truth be told, we actually had our cousins help us crunch up the chips into bitty pieces so that there would be more pieces for everyone to share. Genius right?  Perhaps, but eating chip crumbs wasn’t that great.

Now, let’s discuss family meal time.  How about that can of pork and beans!  I loved this canned delight!  Honestly, when I saw that on the dinner table I was mega-excited!  As a child I loved the thickness of the sauce and how tasty it was.  However, there was a glitch…pork.  The can stated there was “pork” and beans in its innards.  How true!  Imagine a family of six.  Two adults and four children.  There was a “pork” inside.  One “pork” in the pork and beans.  Who would be lucky to get the “pork”.  If you have never had the honour of digesting the contents of a can of pork ‘n’ beans, you cannot really understand the need to be the “Chosen One” to get that insignificant little fatty piece of bacon.  You want Food Fight!  Bring it on!  This was where the debate began of who was worthy.  To this day, I view this canned good as a vessel of divisive evil.


Moving right along we come to the eternal evil: CEREAL!  I do believe that serial killer was hatched from the word CEREAL!  From childhood to grandparenthood I do not find that cereal has good qualities.  I shall explain.

Cereal commercials show the benefits of these boxed glorified sugar bandits.  They contain fibre, vitamins, iron, petroleum, fairy dust and other things we know nothing about.  For some reason, as children, the FUN cereals were the ones that led to the most trouble.  Do you recall “Count Chocula”?  Healthy breakfast?  Heck no!  We wanted it because it would make chocolate milk.  When my mother actually bought a box we children stood there in awe trying to figure out the type of hostage situation we would have to deal with.   There it was.  The box of our imagination.  It was in front of eyes.  Not only did we get our dream cereal but there was a prize inside!  Oops.  There was the catch.  Since we were only permitted about a 1/4 cup of that prized cereal to mix with our Rice Krispies and Honey Comb cereal we had no idea who would be the lucky one to get the prize.  Dissension occurred.  What if Mom picked the youngest child out of pity?  What it the child with the best grades got the prize?  What if it meant being nicest to mom?  What were the rules to getting the prize?  You want insane behaviour?  Find a child surrounded by other children competing for the two-cent prize in a cereal box.  The rules changed.  You were never ready.

The same deal for the Cracker Jack box.  Lovely box with caramel popcorn.  There was a prize inside.  Gadzooks!  If one child got the prize there was always a fight.  Honestly, the prizes were crap, but it was always about who got something more than the other kid.  You solo kids…you missed out on all the drama in life.



The same holds true for marshmallows in hot chocolate.  You had better ensure that each child gets the same amount of marshmallows in that brown frothy goodness.  That is a misstep that parents make and it leads to traumatic psychiatric treatments.

Popsicles?  Same drama.  For some reason that mixed box of popsicles should only contain purple and red.  Why is there an orange flavour for children?  In the olden days only red and purple were of any use.  They were like the gold bullion of frozen sugar water. Orange?  Bleh.

SUMMARY:  Food fights.  Jealous food fisticuffs are all about who got what and why or who was deemed more deserving.  Perhaps the world is better off with real food fights.  Although I have never partaken in such a vigorous display of displeasure, I have seen reels of The Three Stooges throwing cream pies at many an adversary.  What did I learn?  It appears that the evil ones were stymied.  The good, although creamed, being recipients of said sugary confections, appeared to be satisfactory with the results of their actions.  In plain English:  FOOD FIGHT!!!!!   Whip it!  Whip it Good!   (Let’s “LOL” you children of the ’80s)


I am flabulous!

Yes, I am flabulous!  I don’t know why or how it happens, but it seems that my lack of will, when it comes to munchies, really does a doozy on the old love handles.

Love handles…really…I have heard many phrases regarding body weight.  You now, thin may be in but fat is where it’s at.  Or Diet is Die with a T (thank you Garfield the lasagna eating cartoon cat).  How about being described as elegantly filled out.  Yes…so many nice terms.  I recall even reading about good ol’ England in the 1800s.  The larger the better.  If you were thin and tiny of build then it meant you couldn’t afford a good meal.

I myself am working on getting rid of about 30 lbs.  Yes, according to my BMI (body mass index) and according to ANY and EVERY website I have visited, my ideal weight, for someone 5 foot 5 inches and over 40 years of age should be about 140 lbs.  So, I have begun my journey to thinless…yet again.

I started rethinking my approach.  In the past, every time I started losing weight I would get all excited.  I would lower the amount of food intake.  I would eat more fruits and veggies.  I would buy “healthy” snacks…you know, those dry, dry, dry…I mean really dry….ack ack…crackers.  Last time I even kept a food journal on Fitness Pal.  Amazing to see how many calories are in the foods we eat.  Then it happens.  The weight starts coming off.  I start “cheating” on myself.  I would sneak in a bag of chips or some cookies because I was doing so well with my new eating plan (right…it’s not a diet because that word just leads to failure).  Then it would suddenly become a binge weekend with pizza and wings and nachos…oh my!  That leads to a pound or two coming back.  NO big deal right?  Then I start back to my old eating habits because I love the taste of food!  I love all the ooey gooey cheeses.  I love burgers and I love french fries and I love my pizza and my wings.  And there I go…off the rails…yet again.

Well, this time, I am trying out something new.  I am NOT giving up my favourite foods at all.  I am eating less of everything but I have added this new thing…it’s called exorcising…ahem…exercising.  (I prefer exorcising…I’m trying to purge the evil fat right?).  So, I have started using my 5 lb dummies (I mean dumb bells).  I walk the dogs an hour a day.  Very soon my Xbox shall have Jillian whats-her-name from “Biggest Loser” yelling at me.  I will learn to like sweat.

Yes, that is my newfound plan for body modification.  I believe I can do this.  I actually have dreams about my new slender, self going to the beach and looking downright goddesslike.  (Really, these happy thoughts are what are keeping me going as I look at the squishy, cuddly version of me in the mirror). 

The one thing that I have learned over the years is that no matter how thin or how “full-bodied” I get, it’s the inside that matters the most.  Sure I  love it when I lose weight, but I also don’t mind being heavier.  As long as I am happy on the inside and my family is happy, then the outside doesn’t matter as much.  I have learned that that opinions of others don’t matter as much as loving myself. 

Losing weight right now is more for health reasons…I plan to be around and playing with Little Kennie for a long time and no health problems will get in the way of that.

My journey to the Land of Sweat (and tears) will be interesting but for now, as I start my new life goal, I will remember to look in the mirror every day and say, “You look Flabulous!”