Every now and again I’m caught short about the fact that I’m no longer as young as I used to be. I say that as a sprightly 41-year old; hardly getting on. But today I stood on the scales and discovered that since we moved into the office, cycling for 30 mins+ every day into the wind, as well as walking the dog most days (I’m getting Son 1 to do this sometimes – he wants a computer game and this is the best way of getting those vital merit marks, is it not), I have managed, somewhat amazingly, to put on 4 pounds. Four pounds, I ask you! How did that happen?
I blame two things: the hospitality of the good people of Cork and, er, being in my 40s. Now, that final excuse is rather lame, I know, and it wouldn’t have occurred to me had it not been for Tom, our Salt helper who’s doing wonders at getting us sorted out (ie making that all important shift away from empty cupboards and full boxes).
This morning I suggested to Tom that he might just want to nip over to the Co-op and grab some cake, to go with our cup of tea, since it’s Friday and all. He came back with a cake and made some tea and then said to me:
‘How much cake would you like, Jen — just a little piece?’
Huh? ‘Nope, I don’t do little pieces of cake — I’ll have a quarter, please.’
‘Oh right, it’s just that my mum always says “Just a little piece for me”‘
Oh my Good God! Not only did I feel like a complete greedy pig, but also old enough to be his mum (which I easily am, but that’s beside the point). And his mum is really slim. Perhaps there’s a lesson to be learnt here!
That’s a picture I took on my way into work — old gravestones. Hmm.
tags: cake
