So, yesterday when Patsy (dietitian) was giving us creative ideas for preparing the shit ton of green vegetables we have to eat over the next few days (detox phase), I kept thinking she was saying "bacon" every fifth or sixth word. I kept having to stop her to clarify that indeed she had just said "wrap your chicken in bacon".
Me: <totally dumbfounded> It's ok to eat bacon wrapped chicken?! I thought we couldn't eat pork. You guys don't consider bacon to be pork? This is the best news I've gotten all day! I love bacon. Oh, sweet, sweet bacon!
Patsy: <very confused> Wait... what?
Hubber: How does anyone confuse the word "lettuce" for "bacon"? Only my wife. <rolling eyes>
Patsy: Hahahaha! Oh, you two are too funny!
Me: so, no bacon?
Patsy: NO bacon.
This same very pathetic conversation repeated itself a few more times during our 1-hour counseling session. I'm sorry, but the words "taking", "baking", and "spinach" all sound like bacon. Ok, maybe spinach is a little far fetched but at that point I was only half-ass listening. Visions of plump little piggies and bacon wrapped, cheese stuffed jalapenos kept dancing around in my head while Patsy yammered on and Hubber nodded his head like what she was saying was so interesting and reasonable. There's nothing reasonable about not eating pork, y'all. God invented pigs for the sole purpose of being turned into bacon and pork chops and chicharones and pozole and carnitas....!
Hubber: why are you so caught up on bacon? It's not like we eat it a lot.
Me: when someone tells me I can't have a certain thing, I just want it more. Remember that time you said I couldn't have that jackalope head? Remember?! Soon after I wanted two heads... then four... then an entire herd of them! My jackalope dreams have multiplied like crazy. The same thing is going to happen with bacon. I'm going to get obsessed. You'll never hear the end of it. ARE YOU PREPARED FOR THIS SHIT?!
Hubber: I've learned to tune you out. You know... like you tune the kids out. I can do that.
Me: I should be offended by that, huh?
Hubber: Huh? Did you say something?
I hate him sometimes. He loves bacon, too. He was just pretending to be all big shit mister tough guy around Patsy. The second we got home, he said, "Call me crazy, but it kinda smells like bacon in here, huh?" Lord help us.