Digestive Vagaries

Yesterday was what I refer to as a "tiny tummy" day. I had about 4 bites of whatever I chose to eat and was instantly full. Ok, except for the Chocolate Cobbler at the Cracker Barrel. I ate all of that mess! But everything else? Four bites. Today, I've been making up for it, and my stomach has been letting everyone in a 15-foot radius know that she's back and raring for action. My students were laughing at the gurgles and grumbles emanating from my midsection. "Dang, woman! You need to eat some breakfast!" was the most common response. Thing is? I ate breakfast. A lot of breakfast. So, I had nuts during the midterms. Usually, I keep a stash of trail mix in my desk for emergencies. Still, all morning, my stomach let us all know how neglected she'd been.

Lunchtime saw me and the Work Husband at a local bakery and sandwich shop. During the wait, my stomach decided to introduce herself to all and sundry in the shop. The Work Husband compares her language to that of the Hamburgler - robble robble! He got a ginormous egg-salad sandwich, chips, and a coke. I got a scoop of chicken salad (no bread), chips, and a bottled water. I also bought three Madeleines to bring home for later. The Work Husband couldn't finish his sandwich. I finished my chicken salad and most of my chips. The sandwich shop makes the chips themselves - they're finely seasoned and freshly made. Deeeeelish.

Now, early afternoon, sees me comfortably ensconced on my sofa with my stocking feet up on the coffee table, typing with one hand as the other is curled around a steaming mug of "Tea. Earl Grey. Hot." The Madeleines have long since shared their Proustian moment with me, and were followed promptly by 4 rather plebian Oreos. So they were the Double Stuffed Peanut Butter Oreos. I'm still hungry...

Tonight, I'm making Creamed Turkey on Homemade Waffles. This is the alternative to my husband's cleverly named "Monster Soup." Most grownups call this kind of soup Split Pea with Ham, but Miss Peanut was so grossed-out by the smell and bright green color of the soup that the WCM professed it to be made of Ground Up Monster, and NO, she wasn't allowed to have any.

Unfortunately for him, Miss Peanut takes after him in personality. There's no swaying her opinion by the clever use of reverse psychology. She's quite relieved not to have to partake of the Monster Soup. In addition, she'd just prefer butter and syrup on her waffles tonight, thanks ever so much.

My stomach doesn't care right now. She's putting in her order for all three things. LOUDLY.

Time for another snack...