One day, I walk in the house and C is perched in her usual
spot on the couch, sans pants. She’s engrossed in her “job”. I move to the kitchen
for a snack when C exclaims, “Oh my god, I almost died yesterday. And your pita
bread seriously saved my life”.
Let’s rewind: Friday night I got Greek take-out. I was a
little skeptical of the restaurant because I am Greek and I have high
expectations. That tidbit’s not relevant to the story. But now you know something you weren't previously privy to. I
didn’t finish my meal so, into the fridge it went, along with the pita bread.
Rewind even more: For the last year, C has been doing a (mostly) Paleo diet. For those of you who don’t know, basically you eat meat and veggies
and that’s it. And, among other things, there’s no bread. (Don’t worry, I’m not
going to turn this delightful blog into some health expose. If you really want
to know about Paleo, I’m sure your nimble minds know how to use Google). Without any carbs in your body,
alcohol consumption can be a little tricky (or life-threatening, apparently).
Now back to when C almost died. Shame on me for not storing
these two highly important pieces of information in the forefront of my brain,
but I really needed some clarification on her outburst. Out comes the story
like this:
“So I drank way too much on Saturday night and I was
feeling pretty bad on Sunday morning and I thought I wasn’t going to make it
and I obviously don’t have any bread in the house and that really was all that
I needed and then I saw your leftovers and so I ate the pita bread and I really
think it saved my life”.
First of all, dramatic much? Secondly, you’re welcome.
P.S. When the "mostly" Paleo diet isn't in existence, C undertakes the Ice Cream and Bacon diet.
P.S. When the "mostly" Paleo diet isn't in existence, C undertakes the Ice Cream and Bacon diet.
