Wednesday, October 06, 2010

Revolt


There has been an uprising in my house, and I’m mainly writing this because, at this very moment, I fear for my own safety.  Marissa has fixed a squinty-eyed glare on me for the past couple of days, and I can tell that suspicion and uncertainty are at an all-time high.

I have tried to temper the situation by explaining.  I have tried cajoling.  I have tried bribery, but to date, nothing works.

I fear she is starting to suspect that there are changes coming on the horizon, changes that will affect her immediate way of life.  As is to be expected, this suspicion is coupled with anxiety and a caginess that can only make me think she is looking for any possible escape.

I have begun tip-toeing around the kitchen, in the hopes that she doesn’t hear me and then come looking to see what I’ll be cooking for dinner.  The quieter I can be, the more time I have to prepare myself for her look of astonishment at yet Something. Else. That. Is. Green!  Ewwww!  Seriously, Mom, are we going to eat like this forever now?

The Paleo way of life seems to have a couple of our family members firmly in its grip, but as for the rest of the family, I fear a hostile coup will be necessary.  I have determined that I must be sneakier in my efforts to camouflage vegetables and do away with grains.

For now, I am going back to my recipe planning and plotting to alter the taste buds of an entire family that, to date, has been dependent on food groups such as DingDongs, Ice Cream, and potato chips.  (Don’t even ask me what this food pyramid looks like!)

As for the level of tension surrounding the group of hold-outs (we’ll call them The Insurgents for now), it is mounting.  I fear that the next plate of vegetables will bring about something akin to Marshall Law in our household.

I am off to battle for another day in my quest to health-ify my family.  (Oh yeah, and also, if you have any ideas for making mashed cauliflower look like mac & cheese, I would love to hear them!)

Also, if you don’t hear from me regularly, please check on me—because it’s entirely possible that I will be outnumbered and locked in the basement so that the rest of the family can go on an Oreo bender.

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