Saturday, March 10, 2007

The Starving Child (paca)

Each day B's daycare sends out a report about what happened that day and they attempt to have each child in one sentence. The other parents reading these reports must think that we never feed our son at home. They've been making grilled cheese sandwiches in the morning and the report every single day this week had B at the table cooking and eating. You'd think he was a starving child looking for the food he couldn't get at home, when in fact I made him pancakes and sausage 30 minutes earlier - which he ate. Well, he ate the pancakes. B just likes to eat, I guess. And he's not fat. I've posted plenty of pics here. He's not chubby at all.

I used to be like that. I remember eating seconds and thirds routinely in college and having a 30" waist, which is pretty much the smallest size possible in the men's department. You can find some rare 29s. Then I became 22, 23, 24 years old, and the inches went 32, 34, 36... But, hey, 34 again! Huh. Somehow this post ended up about me instead of B. Well, that's entirely appropriate. Everything should be about me. Look at me! Look at me! That's what a blog is for, right?


bunnygirl said...

Metabolism is a funny thing, isn't it? Just be careful. Unless you're actively trying to raise your metabolism, it only slows down the older you get. And since the body lays down fat within the muscles before laying down subcutaneous fat, you don't even realize you're getting fatter until one day you wake up and wonder what the heck happened.

It's a losing battle for us all, but we must fight the good fight for as long as we can. Or so says I. :-)

writtenwyrdd said...

Marbelizing like a side of beef...I'm good at that. Two years after you quit working out like an athlete, and boom you are a lard butt and four sizes larger. Apalling.