Since I've returned to the United States, I've been eating. A lot.
And drinking Dr. Pepper. Too much Dr. Pepper.
Aaron said that when we moved back to the States we wouldn't eat as much as we do when we're just visiting, because we'll know that we're staying and it won't feel like such a rush to squeeze all the delicious stuff in.
Okay, so I'm waiting for that to happen. I'm waiting for us to stop eating like this is our last meal on earth.
Tonight we're having Burr Field's famous ribs with rosemary roasted potatoes, french bread and salad. Mmm.
The other day at my Aunt Sandi's house we had steak shish kabob with marinated mushrooms and sweet corn-on-the-cob, and apple pie, strawberry shortcake, and hot fudge sundaes for dessert. Mmm, mmm.
And did I mention I've been drinking way too much Dr. Pepper? Mmm, mmm, mmm.
Maybe after the novelty wears off, after we've eaten enough Burger Ranch, Dreyer's cookie dough ice cream, and Taco Wagon, we'll settle into a routine. There will come a time when Burger King and Taco Bell will sound more greasy than good. We'll settle for our staples again: chicken broccoli casserole, chicken broccoli casserole, and chicken broccoli casserole.
Right now, to be honest, the thought of eating chicken broccoli casserole sounds about like eating a plateful of fried worms. Blah.
But we'll get there. We'll get to where a bin full of avacados at the grocery store is "normal." Either that or I'll be weighing three hundred pounds the next time you see me.