Still lurgied. Went to Ma's today for big traditional roast dinner. So far, so filling. Then she brought out dessert.
Desserts, excuse me. Strudel, a whole big trifle, and a whole big put of cream for whipping.
I thought about resisting, and then gave in with what it would be politic to call grace, and accurate to call gluttony.
The thing is, in my mind was the mantra of off kids who grew up in the 70s.
It'll only go to waste if no-one eats it. Followed closely by the number two hit in the psychological charts of the time:
There are people starving in Africa...
How and why this second mantra never translated into the logical further thought - so stop eating everything in sight, ya greedy bastard, I suspect I'll never know, but it's certainly true in my case that the programming of youth was that you finished your plate, both for domestic convenience and wider-scale socio-political responsibility...I ate that trifle for Ethiopia, don'tcha know? I think, in some messed-up dark little part of my brain, I expect smiles and brownie-points from (the let's not forget, stick-bloody-thin) Sir Bob Geldof for this act of demented gluttony...
They always say that inside every fat person, there's a thin person trying to get out. What no bugger tells you is that they're stark raving mad...
No comments:
Post a Comment