I am a piggy pig....
We have had Darren s dad staying with us for two nights. We don t see him often as he lives in Samoa. So he was on a fleeting Melbourne visit and he likes to show his love by taking us out to dinner. Which is nice. So last night we head off to the new bistro in a neighbouring up and coming suburb.
I had planned to order salad and drink water or diet coke.... first thing I do? Order a glass of wine, which my FIL then convinces me to change to a bottle of wine to share with him. I ve been brought up to respect my elders, so I could hardly say no.
The waitress is ready to take our orders... Darren has already ordered a trio of dips and a garlic bread for the table... I know the table aint eating, it will be me stuffing that into my face.
As the waitress takes everyone else s order, I am staring at the greek salad on the menu and I am practising my order “greek salad, no onions please... greek salad, no onions please”. The waitress gets to me and out of my mouth comes “g.... chicken, mushroom and avocado fettucine please.. um, no onions” At least I got that bit right.
So while we are waiting for the food I take Millar to the children s playground and watch him play ... it s exhausting, I m sure just watching all that energy be expended must be worth at least one bonus point.
We return to the table and I start on the garlic bread.. The butter tastes like heaven. The kind of heaven you go to after the heart attack. Breads and dips... that turkish bread looks healthy but I know it isn t... ahh I ll just have a little bit... smothered in whatever that is.
Millar s kids meal arrives and he doesn t seem too keen so I try to tempt him by showing him that mummy is eating his food... this has never worked so I don t know why I was shoving chicken nuggets and chips into my mouth and pretending it was some kind of reverse psychology.
By now the points tally is ticking over in my head and I know that it s already pretty much over but I haven t even had my main yet... and the wine.
Fettucini arrives... it is devine. It is cooked in a cream sauce and I can taste my arteries hardening as I eat. I feel full half way through my meal.... but I soldier on. I have to blame my parents for this as you have to finish what s on your plate right? I m 31 years old, I can stop blaming my parents! It s all me, piggy pig...oink oink.
I manage to leave some on the plate but that s only because it seriously was not going to fit in my mouth.
After some table chat and discussions about going home, the FIL states that it is time for desert. I say.. “oh no I couldn t possibly”. He said something about only seeing us once a year and this is only one night out of a billion and that I can go back to eating salad tomorrow.. all very good points and I can t argue with Darren s dad... that would be rude. So out of respect I chose a baileys cheescake with cream and shared it with Darren. There was a strawberry on the plate... I ate that too, it was the healthiest part of my entire day.
Why do we celebrate with food? And why do I celebrate so much? I am feeling like crap today and I am at -11.5 points. I had a diet shake for breakfast and am having veggies for tea.. hoping to balance out today or tomorrow.
There is a handy guide on the weight watchers website about suriviving eating out.
They say:
Plan ahead ( I planned on the salad)
make wise food choices – choose foods that are described as grilled, steamed or baked (yay, my cheesecake was baked!!!)
alternate glasses of alcohol with water or soft drink... (fail)
skip pre and post dinner nibbles such as peanuts, bread and petit-fours. (fail)
Thank god I only go out about once a year!! Next time I will plan ahead by saving some bonus points so I can have a treat or seven.
What do you think? Should diets go out the window for special occasions? Or is it not worth it, can you have your salad and eat it too? Is a special occasion just an excuse to eat like a pig?
No comments:
Post a Comment