Coffee Talk

The Man and I went out to lunch yesterday. Now The Man, being the smart fellow that he is, started proofreading the menu. First he noticed that cheese was spelled as “chesse.” He gently pointed it out to the waitress, who was very gracious and replied that there were probably a number of typos in the menu.

While we were enjoying our meal, The Man found another questionable menu entry. Flagging down the waitress, he asked, “What’s togo coffee?”

“To go. Coffee to go.”

Now to be fair, it was a typo. There was no space in between to and go, but the sheepish look on his face was priceless. It was just one of those “gee I feel dumb” moments. Bless his heart. He has had coffee issues before.

On our honeymoon, we stopped at a little café for a bite to eat. The Man ordered the au jus sandwich. He was happily munching away when he managed, “This au jus is strange.”

I watched for a moment then replied, “You’re dipping your sandwich in your coffee.”

The sandwich wasn’t the only dippy one that day.

(Disclaimer: This message has been posted with The Man’s full knowledge and approval.)

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Middle Age

Once upon a long time ago, DSguy asked me a rather unremarkable question.

“Mom, what year were you born in?”

I told him.

He replied, “Is that in the Old Testament?”

Maybe it was a run-of-the-mill question, but the answer sure packed a wallop!

Sometimes I wonder what exactly constitutes being middle aged. I mean, I consider myself in that category, but what is the standard, anyway?

• DSguy apparently once thought I was an ancient relic of Biblical proportions.
• The Man says that I’m pretty darn close to middle aged, citing currently recognized human life expectancies as proof. Simple division. How methodical.
• A gal pal who is a bit older than I am says I’m still a spring chicken.

Wikipedia says middle age can be anywhere from 35-65, depending on which source you ask. That’s quite a spread, and yes, I fall in that range.

Just for argument’s sake, let’s say Wikipedia and The Man are correct and I am officially middle aged. I’m OK with that. It means I’m growing in wisdom and restraint, as is evidenced by the fact that DSguy is still alive after that Old Testament comment.

Lord help me if he ever decides to ask about menopause.

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Spiffy!

How do you like the new digs? The toaster is looking pretty spiffy these days, eh?

A big thanks to Mari LaVell at Free2Be Blog Designs for the custom work she did on my blog. She’s great to work with, if you ever find yourself in need of a blog facelift. Go check out her website to see some more customized samples.

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Fat Chance

I was a scrawny kid. You know, one of those that could eat their weight in chocolate and cheeseburgers and not gain any poundage.

Not anymore. My super metabolism decided to hang up its cape, I guess. They tell me it’s all part of this middle-aged thing…eat just like you always did, and gain weight anyway. That’s where I find myself these days.

Even more disturbing is what has happened to my cholesterol! Would you believe my triglycerides have almost tripled in two years? I’m in a state of shock. It’s time for an overhaul.

Diet and exercise. That’s what the doctor ordered, as she should. Unfortunately, those two words hold about as much thrill to me as the words “root canal” or “pap smear.” In my sugar-craving mind, diet and exercise = self-imposed torture. I would love to completely ignore the good doc’s prescription, but will I?

Fat chance. I have two little boys and a hubby who are counting on me being around for awhile, so I need to take care of my health. I respect my doctor. She’s looking out for me.

I’m looking for some good recipes that are low fat, low cholesterol. Anybody have anything that tastes better than cardboard? I’m thinking I need to learn how to use whole foods and cut back on prepackaged (read: easy) foods. The dietary stuff is the hardest part for me.

As for exercise, I have dusted off my “Dancing with the Stars Cardio Dance” DVD. I have been spending my weekday mornings doing the cha-cha, samba, and jive. Not well mind you, but I am working up a sweat.

So in a nutshell, I’m in over my head. I need to completely unlearn everything I’ve been doing for the last 30 some years. Want to jump in and unlearn with me? How about joining me for a cha-cha workout? I assure you, you can’t butcher that dance any worse than I already have. Think I’ll be dancing in public anytime soon?

Fat chance.

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