independent

Wednesday 18 September 2019

Myself and Himself are on diet regime...so it's time to play dirty!

Justine O'Mahony
Justine O'Mahony

Justine O'Mahony

My 12 year old son returned from Lidl the other day with a giant bag of marshmallows for himself and a bag of curly Kale for me.

'Well you're always saying you should go on a diet' he said before retreating to his Xbox with the marshmallows and leaving me in the kitchen gobsmacked, clutching the bag of kale. I'd never even heard of Kale until this year and now all I'm hearing about is bloody Kale! Kale smoothies, Kale chips, Kale stirfry. You name it and there's Kale in it. I sought advice on facebook as to what I should do with it and the general consensus seemed to be Colcannon would be the tastiest thing to make.

Then somebody told me she'd bought a bag of Kale a few days earlier and it was full of spiders. That was the end of the Kale. Out to the bin it went and I sat on the couch eating every bag of crisps I could find in the house.

I moaned to Himself that none of my jeans fitted me so we decided to weigh ourselves. My worst suspicions were confirmed - I am a Heifer.....of the highest order! Himself, much to his surprise had packed a few pounds on over Christmas as well. We resolved to, not so much go on a diet, but eat healthier and cut out alcohol for a few weeks to see would that make a difference. Failing that, I may have to resort to liposuction.

Monday and Tuesday we were good. There was no biscuits, crisps or wine. I even had porridge for breakfast instead of my usual crunchy nut cornflakes with chocolate. On Wednesday we weighed ourselves again. Himself had lost 3 pounds. Me - Nada.

He smiled smugly and patted me on the back. 'Ah don't worry, keep going.You're doing great.' I wanted to clatter him over the head with the weighing scales. We are both very competitive and he loves to win so it was time to start playing dirty.

That night I cooked him chicken panfried in butter with loads of buttery mashed potatoes. He looked slightly worried but hunger obviously got the better of him and he demolished it. The next night I gave him steak with a ton of homemade chips AND a mound of buttery mashed potatoes. If I wasn't losing weight, either was he!

'Eh, it's lovely and all but could you cut back a bit on the spuds?' he asked patting his belly. 'Of course,' I said, nibbling my stirfry miserably and watching every forkful going into his mouth. On Friday I handed him the last Mint Magnum in the freezer, which normally I'd be loathe to do.

'You're up to something,' he said eyeing me beadily. He knows me so well! 'You're not trying to make me fat are you?'

"Don't be ridiculous!' I could feel myself reddening.

On Saturday morning we had another weigh in. Himself wasn't so smug. 'Feck it! I've put on everything I lost.'

'Oh no!' says I with fake sympathy, hopping up on the scales myself.

Not an ounce gone. Not one feckin' ounce!

I suppose that's what you call Karma!

Wexford People

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