Tuesday, 17 April 2012

I need to learn to speak salad

I am like Dr Doolittle...except that animals don't talk to me, food does. It is a really great skill to have....


Funnily enough, vegetables are pretty quiet on the talking front. They don't have much to say at all. Fruit not so much either. Actually it seems I can only speak lardy fat junk food language. Oh yes, sweet talking junk food. Calling to me.... enticing me..... trying to seduce me....

Chocolate mousse in the fridge:

"Ooohhhhhh Rachelle *think sexy french accent here* Rachelle...ma belle...ma petit chou....com over ere and open ze freej......
Are you hongrey? Hmmmmmmmm??? You know you want a leetle nibble....don't you??? Jusssst one leetle bite?"

Biscuits in the cupboard:

"You hoo *posh English accent* sweetie dahling!....fancy a tincy wincy little bikkie? Over here...in the pantry....come on lovie....just a itsy bit?"
Left over BBQ'd sausages in fridge:

"Awright darlin' *cockeney geezer* ow's about a larvly sausage or two? Goworn ya know ya wannoo"....
And so on....

It gets very difficult to ignore. And those are just the polite ones. The big bar of chocolate that remains unopened since February is beginning to scream my name, the leftover chocolate easter eggs are noisier than my children (and they are LOUD) and the bags of nuts...... well you can imagine....filthy language....All screaming at me and yelling:

"Eat me....Eeeaattt Meeeeee....EAT ME!"

Just downright rude.

Time for a cupboard/fridge/pantry clear out methinks. And NOT directly into my gob. Perhaps it is time to line the shelves with wholesome good for me food that will whisper healthy sweet nothings in my ear instead.

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