You’re at a restaurant. It smells of heaven and bliss. You finally seated, you already know what you are going to eat but suddenly they pass you a menu. And you will have to rethink what you want because you wish you could not only order the shrimp scampi, but the haddock looks amazing and the steak tips look almost too good and the right amount of tender.
So now you order. It is time the waitress demands to know what you want for dinner. She probably does not actually demand, but you’ve taken decades to decide on what you want, so you sense the impatience.
Steak tips it is… you’ve been craving them any way.
You’re munching away… loving every bite.
You get a bit fuller and fuller.
But you got to finish it.
You got to finish those steak tips, mashed potatoes and carrots.
Waitress comes and asked if you’re all done, but before you get a chance to answer the last mashed potato bite you wanted is gone…
Vanished, all you have left is the last couple muches you have left chewing between your teeth.
I have a confession. The “you” here is actually me. This happens on numerous occasions. All I want is to have that last crunchy fry, last crouton and wonton.
Next time, I will open my mouth and say NO. I am not finished.
I will have my Veggie-ence.