There are some who start their retirement long before they stop working. -Robert Half

Monday, February 2, 2009


Grammy and Papa always worry about what I eat for lunch. The only reason I can think of that they worry about it so much is because I always eat the same thing. I like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I eat one every day for lunch. I don't see a problem. Papa always wants to buy me lunchmeat and cheese and Grammy always wants me to take tuna. I always eat the same meals every day. I told Papa that last year when I lived in my apartment, I ate grilled cheese with broccoli every day for dinner, and sometimes for lunch. I don't think he believes me, or if he does, he's trying to change me.
Every night, Grammy sets out all the materials I would ever need to make my breakfast and lunch the next day. She always sets out so many options for me, even though I always eat a bowl of cereal (frosted puffed wheat with soy milk) and a grapefruit for breakfast and I always make a PBJ for lunch. She still sets out:
English Muffins
Peanut Butter
Sweet relish
Raisin Bran
Frosted Puffed Wheat
Honey Nut Cheerios
She also sets out many options of tupperwares, lunch boxes, and coffee mugs for me to choose from. Usually I choose the same ones, but sometimes I mix it up. Sometimes I take the candy cane mug instead of the green mug.
Like I said, Papa wants me to eat lunch meat sandwiches for lunch. And not just any lunch meat, he wants me to like honey ham, because that is what he likes. I just don't like ham unless there is absolutely NO fat or unidentified particles on it, but that usually doesn't happen. Papa marvels at the fact that I can find fat on any slab of meat he brings home. I'm good, I know. He could bring home the leanest piece of meat at WalMart, and I could still find fat on it. It is one of my skills. He always makes me try things, too. Even if I've had it before. For example, he brought home some shaved ham the other day and asked me:
Papa: Did you try that ham I brought home?
Julie: I don't like ham.
Papa: Well, maybe you'll like this ham, did you try it?
Julie: No, I didn't. I've had ham before. I don't like it.
Papa goes to the fridge and gets out the ham
Papa: Here, try a bite. It's good. I got the honey ham and it is really thin sliced. Grammy and I really like it.
I always end up trying it. I just don't like ham. Maybe I'll start acting like I'm sick to my stomach and tell him that ham makes me nauseous, like oatmeal and pheasant casserole makes him. I think ham is one of the reasons that Papa likes it when I go visit my friends for the weekend.

Reasons Papa likes me to visit my friends on the weekend:
1) Him and Grammy get to eat ham. They don't make it when I'm home, but every time I come home at the end of the weekend, Papa says:
Papa: Guess what we had for dinner this weekend?
And I always know that means they ate ham.
2) I think Papa is glad that I have friends. I don't have any friends under the age of 65 in Owensville and I think Papa is worried that I don't have any friends anywhere. Whenever I tell him I'm going to Columbia, he says "Good, good. Going to see all your friends?" and I tell him "Yup. I've got a LOT of friends."
3) Since I'm not there, he can listen to the TV on full blast all night long. Yes, I'm lame and go to bed at 10, even on the weekends.

No comments:

Post a Comment