Today my husband and I met at Wade’s for lunch. Wade’s is a veritable shrine to Southern cooking, and since Justin has been living off of sandwiches and nachos for the last few nights, he had to get a vegetable fix. It was a treat for me because I never eat out for lunch. McDonald’s is a treat for me.
Anyway, as we’re eating, I was thinking about my hair. It is long because my husband likes it long, but I hate it because it weighs 40 pounds and it looks exactly the same as it did in high school, which was a looooong time ago. I’ve started wearing it up in a ponytail even to bed just to pretend like it doesn’t exist.
Anyway, as I’m thinking about my hair, I tell my beloved, “I have decided that if I can lose 30 pounds and get down to my goal weight, this stuff (I point to my hair) is going.” He raises his eyebrows. “You’re going to shave your head? I am going to have a bald, skinny wife?”
He is trying to exasperate me. “Noooo,” I say, “I am getting it cut short. You know, it’s like my motivation, my goal.” “How are you going to lose 30 pounds?” he asks.
“I don’t know yet,” I reply. “When I really restrict my diet, it feels unsustainable and so I say the heck with that and quit. When I don’t really restrict my diet and just try to do portion control, it takes me 3 weeks to lose a pound, so then I get frustrated and say the heck with that. That’s the problem, really, is that every diet ends with the heck with that.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have come to Wade’s,” he says, and we both look down at our plates. I got the veggie plate, which sounds healthy, but looking up at me beguilingly are creamed corn, macaroni and cheese, baked apples, sweet potato w/ marshmallows, turnip greens, and lima beans. And a roll. I say, “It’s ok. It’s like the end of the old ways. It’s a grand finale.” And he grins and says, “I think I’ll be repeating that back to you someday soon.” And I say, “Well, maybe there will be a few encores. Hopefully not many.”