By By Leada Gore, Editor
Sometimes, a person has to admit things haven’t worked out as well as you thought they would. There comes a time when a woman has to admit her husband has strayed.
OK, so strayed is probably too strong a word. It’s not as if he broke some sacred vows or anything. And to many people, it’s probably not a big deal but Greg was caught cheating on our joint diet we instituted earlier this year.
Busted.
Dead to rights.
No getting out of it.
In a way I can understand his slip. He was required to go pretty much cold turkey from the previous anything goes diet. In one day, out went the potato chips, white bread and baked ziti. They were replaced with whole grains, lots of fruit and flax seed noodles.
Like many spouses, I detected trouble before it was confirmed. For one thing, I found him opening the pantry and staring at it with a longing in his eyes.
Then, I noticed he started just moving the lettuce around on his plate, acting as if he wasn’t interested anymore.
The final straw came when he told my mother I was starving him to death. I guess sometimes it takes a direct cry for help to grab your attention.
It was shortly after this that I discovered the truth. Greg was working in the garage and I went to find him. He was standing in the front of the door with his back to me and I noticed he had something in his hand.
He turned around, looking guilty. Clamped in his hand was a piece of fruit roll up.
I just stared at him.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he popped the rest of the roll-up in his mouth and smiled.
I know there are hard times in every marriage. And I know we took a vow to hang in there for better or for worse. I guess the ingestion of fruit roll up isn’t the end of the world. I know I can move on and hope Greg can see the error of his ways, make amends and rejoin the path to better eating.
Let the healing begin.