I ordered the grilled lemon chicken with fresh green beans and new potatoes. My inner chubby girl, let's call her Gert (why not?), wanted the garlic butter sirloin with mashed potatoes, but my inner skinny chick, we'll call her Margot (alrighty then), won the battle! Is this growth? Is it a sign that my body knows what's good for it a little bit more now? I wanted to be able to have a beer with dinner and some kind of dessert. It was our anniversary for Pete's sake!
|How yummy does that look? source|
I'm so proud of Gertrude for forfeiting her desire for fatty foods to Margot's knowledge that the grilled chicken was a better choice. Good job, Gert! How in hell Margot overpowered Gert is beyond me, but she did and my body thanks her. I congratulated Gert with a lemon cupcake for dessert. I figure this is the better choice when faced with a case full of ooey, gooey, chocolaty, creamy, rich, luscious options. Am I right?
I guess what it comes down to is give and take. Gert gave up an entree to Margot so that she could have a cupcake later. I think she made a wise choice don't you?