The morning began like most others with me sitting with a cup of Earl Gray hot tea and talking to one of our daughters as she drives to school. Most mornings, she uses me to take up her time driving. She had shared with me before, that she calls me to get the “guilt” of talking to her mom out of the way so that is one less thing she has to do as the day goes on. Actually she calls me since she knows that all she has to do is dial my number, set the phone down and she can drink her coffee, eat her bagel and get the “required” phone call out of the way without having to really say too much. So I guess you could say that I “talk” her to school. s (hum….I’m remembering that as I just typed that that Cameron use to tell me the same thing).

Isn’t it so sweet that she feels she can just be totally honest with her mom. Well, this morning was no different. Half way through the conversation, right after she tells me how great the pasta salad was that I had dropped off to her yesterday, she interrupts my “oh honey, I just knew you would love it and that’s why we brought it to you” with….the following:

“Mom, this reminds me of what I wanted to share with you. You know that I want a really close relationship with you, and I know that you show your love with food. BUT….I want a relationship with you that doesn’t make me fat!” What? what did she just say? She went on to tell me, “you know that I love to eat the food you bring over, but maybe we could change the kind of food you bring over. Instead of bringing a huge bowl of pasta salad that, yes, I ended up eating all of, maybe you could bring over a cucumber or cherry tomatoes or maybe a stalk of broccoli” (will be back to finish posting in a min, I have to go take out 4 Kentucky Butter cakes out of the over, oh maybe you know who would like one of these this evening…nope forgot, now she only wants the moldy cucumber that is half eaten in the fridge) OK, I’m back.

So the conversation continued. She began to tell me that she just doesn’t have any will power when I bring over the cakes or cookies, or left over roast and mashed potatoes. Most of you who know us well, know that Randy, aka Mr. MUST HAVE NEW FOOD EACH MEAL, doesn’t eat left overs, so our scraps, oops, I mean left overs, usually go to the kids house. who we nicknamed The Mikey Household, because they truly will eat anything (because they didn’t have to cook it) Anyhow, said daughter goes on to tell me that she knows I usually don’t keep a lot of fresh veggies or fruits in the house because the pounds of butter and cream cheese in the fridge just don’t leave a lot of room for those kinds of foods. It is at this point that she tells me that maybe I could just stop at a local produce market and buy a orange or stalk of celery if I feel like I just have to bring food over to get that warm loving feeling that I get when I take food to people.

Maybe she just doesn’t realize that when I sit and watch her eat the pound of chicken fried steak with left over mashed potatoes and gravy, its not the warm fuzzie feeling from just giving food to her. As I sit there and watch her eat all these great left overs, my mind wanders to “oh yeah, sweetie, just keep eating like that and you will be in stretch pants before your 45. and that loose skin under my arms that you kid me about, well, missy, keep eating like that and we can have contest in a couple of years to see which one of us can wave the longest with that loose skin.” So, I admit  maybe just maybe I have had an ulterior motive in my sharing of food. What she doesn’t realize yet is that there is a method to my madness of sharing all the fattening food. “Oh honey, you gained a pound or 5 having the left over stroganoff I brought over the other, night and you need to borrow my stretch pants? Well of course, I’ll bring them right over, oh and I’ll stop and get us a chocolate frappachino in case you need a little something to cheer you up. ”

Now the conversation will be a little different I guess, “sure, I’ll stop and get you a bag of brussels sprouts and we can sit and have a giant glass of water” Man does that sound like fun; I can hardly wait for our next visit. In the meantime, I think I’ll go have a piece of the Kentucky Butter cake I just took out of the oven and smile just thinking about the fact that as long as I have a chubby little face, my wrinkles will stay filled out and won’t show near as quickly as Ms. Brussels Sprouts skinny little face. Oops did I just type that out loud?