OK. Here was the deal.
Tonight, Dianne and I went out to dinner at DeColores. We halved a veggie burger.
Everything's okey-dokey so far....right?
Then, the waitress brought over a little plate of rum cake and biscochitos that she had made.
The waitress is very nice. It was nice of her to make holiday sweets to bring to her work. It was nice of her to share with Dianne and me.
Nice, nice, nice.
I had to be nice back.
Dianne has had weight loss surgery. She CAN'T eat rum cake or biscochitos.
So......... you know the rest of the story.
Dum-da-dum! Jenny to the rescue!!
I cleaned the plate.
I don't even like biscochitos. I don't really like sweets!
It really was codependent of me to eat them.
On the way home, Dianne and I talked about the things that I coulda/shoulda/woulda done.
* I could have said "no, thank you".
* I could have eaten my share and let Dianne say "no, thank you".
* I could have lied and said that I was allergic to sugar like I lie at other restaurants and say I'm allergic to corn so they'll bring me a spoon to eat my salsa with!
I ate for Dianne - just as I was afraid of doing during her visit. But it wasn't her fault. I did it because, like the waitress, I am just so effing NICE.
I have been taught that, when it comes to food, you accept what's offered.
I have been taught that, when it comes to food, you clean your plate.
I have been taught to say 'no' to drugs, sex, peer pressure, flirty men, used car salesmen, strangers at my door, phone solicitors, religious missionaries, and my children.
But I have not been taught to say 'no' to food.