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Monday, December 8, 2008

Breakfast IS the most important meal of the day

Yesterday I got out of bed early so I'd have time to lounge around and leisurely read the newspaper before church. I didn't quite get up early enough, though. It was time to get ready, and I wasn't even close to finished perusing the ads. I pushed it to the last possible moment. I cut corners on the make-up, I rushed into the closet and threw on an outfit that, in retrospect, Iwouldn't have normally picked, and I skipped breakfast.

Now, skipping breakfast is pretty much the norm for me. I essentially live in a state of semi-starvation to keep from gaining weight as I roar towards middle age. And, yes, I've heard that ridiculousness about eating breakfast boosting metabolism and helping with weight losss... blah, blah, blah... I'm not listening. I'm not getting any fatter. Mission accomplished. End of discussion.

By the time we get to church I am crazy hungry. Usually when I get hungry like this it gnaws at me for a few minutes and then the hunger dissipates, or even goes away entirely. And sometimes it doesn't. Today was one of those days.

After I complained about being hungry en route to church my daughter Hannah suggested that I eat a mint to curb my hunger. Oh boy, here we go again with the karma. Just last week we were at the mall with our out-of-town guests. Everyone was on different schedules, and Hannah was starving. I told her that I sometimes eat a mint when I am hungry and can't take time to eat right away. I told her that the mint taste sort of kills your appetite for a short time. I fed her, like, 50 mints to try and kill the hunger long enough to get everyone home for a meal. She didn't think it worked. I dug to the bottom of my purse (and it was a long dig. There is a lot of crap in my purse) and popped a mint into my mouth. It didn't help one single bit.

At this point we were solidly in the middle of the church service and I kept getting hungrier and hungrier. My tummy was starting to rumble, and believe me when I say that my stomach can rumble like a caged lion. I poked my husband and apprised him of my situation. He smiled a little and shook his head. What can you say to someone who intentionally deprives themselves of food and then has a growling stomach? I'm lucky I didn't get a full eye roll.

So my stomach starts rumbling but is gracious enough to time the grumbles so that they coincide with singing or responsorial parts of the service. Then the pastor said, "Let us pray," and the church fell deafeningly silent. You could have heard a pin drop in that church. And of course my stomach roared. Not grumbled -- ROARED. I wiggled in my seat to try and make some creaking to cover the roaring, but it didn't work. It was loud. I was embarrassed. People noticed. I didn't even have any of the kids with me so that I could pretend it was them.

Thankfully the silence was brief. The pastor led us toward communion and background noise was created to mask a few follow-up grumblings. We headed up to receive communion and all I could think about was food. Pat jokingly whispered that I was going to get some bread, and told me to hang on. Very funny. Glad I married a comedian.

I approached the deacon who offered me communion and as I reached for the bread I don't know what happened but instead of taking one, I got two. What? Am I seriously so hungry that I just subconsciously swiped a second piece of communion bread?! I swear I did not intend to take two. I froze for a second and briefly contemplated putting one back. I could see Pat grinning from ear-to-ear out of the corner of my eye as I shoved the bread into my mouth.

And then it really got bad. I'm in church, I'm starving, I've not been paying attention to the sermon as I'm too busy obsessing about food, and now I'm loading up on communion bread in some sort of Freudian attempt to feed myself. The situation is so stupid and so completely of my own creation that it becomes funny. I have the overwhelming desire to burst into laughter. And not little chuckles. We're talking giant guffaws. You know, the type of laughter that surfaces at completely inappropriate times and is even funnier because of the fact that it shouldn't be funny at all. By the time I got back to my seat I could barely contain myself. I could see Pat, and he was laughing too. I could feel my face turning red from the effort of stifling the laughter, and I had to keep my head turned away from Pat or I would have been unable to keep from bursting into peals of laughter.

By the time I got home the hunger had gone. I made the kids lunch, had a few spoonfulls of their mac-n-cheese and a handful of grapes, and then ate 47 enchiladas for dinner at the new Mexican restaurant.

It makes me hungry again just thinking about it.


Anonymous said...

Breakfast really would help stabilize your metabolism 'ya know!

But it wouldn't make for nearly as good a read!

Gibby said...

LOL, good one! What are the odds of getting 2 hosts? (And didn't that make your mouth REALLY dry?) Too bad your church didn't have donut Sunday like ours did yesterday. Hubby forgot to get Chuckles from her Sunday school class just to be first in line at the donut table! That would have quieted your tummy!

ck said...

Our church serves up some slammin' matzah pieces first Sunday of the month. And as per usual, I always take an extra beat to make sure I get the biggest one in the tray. You know, to tide me over until the sip of grape juice makes the rounds...

evenshine said...

Ours is served in loaves. You have to break off a piece of the loaf while the deacon waits...and watches. I have SO been there, with the rumbling tummy, and the fistful of bread.