I am like Dr Doolittle...except that animals don't talk to me, food does. It is a really great skill to have....
YOU WANNA BE REALLY FAT
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
Chocolate mousse in the fridge:
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
Biscuits in the cupboard:
*posh English accent* sweetie dahling!....fancy a tincy wincy little bikkie?
Over here...in the pantry....come on lovie....just a itsy bit?"
over BBQ'd sausages in fridge:
"Awright darlin' *cockeney
geezer* ow's about a larvly sausage or two? Goworn ya know ya
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