Looking Back: Rocco Returns.
After staring into the refrigerator for several minutes this morning, debating what to have for breakfast, my stomach was growling madly before I came to an egg-and-avocado conclusion. It’s been a while since I’ve felt sincerely and frustratingly hungry, reminding me of dear Rocco. So today, I’m looking back to a post about the bear who lives in my stomach.
* * *
I should have packed more food. What was I thinking, bringing lunch only? Oh man, am I hungry.
Internal Motivational Speaker: Kerri, Kerri. You have a delicious spread of portabella chicken and spinach for lunch, complete with a drizzled bit of balsamic dressing. Can’t you just have your lunch early?
Stomach: Give it up, Speaker. It’s snack time. Snack time never
includes healthy. Snack time is ravenous. Kerri, go downstairs and get a peppermint patty from the diner.
But I don’t even like peppermint patties. I want a Nutrigrain bar.
Stomach: I don’t care if you like it or not. It’s almost ten-thirty. You’ve given me nothing but coffee. Rocco doesn’t like coffee, Kerri.
Growling from the pits of my stomach. The chain rattles and I can hear him breathing heavily, scraping his paws along the floor.
Internal Motivational Speaker: (panicked squeal) Oh, hi Rocco! I see you have a new chain. That’s a lovely new chain. (nervous laugh) Have you done something different with your fur?
Rocco growls and leans against his chain, the links straining against one another.
Stomach: Easy there, Rock. It’s cool, buddy. Kerri is going to go downstairs and grab you a blueberry Nutrigrain bar. You like those, don’tcha?
Rocco puffs out his bear breath and plunks down on his haunches, waiting. My stomach lurches a bit. I need something to eat. I get up from my desk chair and grab a dollar from my wallet. Rocco starts to purr, as much as a bear can.
Internal Motivational Speaker: Oh no. No, no Miss Kerri. Nutrigrain bars have high fructose corn syrup in them. Not to mention almost 25 grams of carbohydrates. You have that package of almonds in your drawer. Why not snack on those? Do you really need a high-carb indulgence right now? I mean …
Stomach: Lady, do you ever take a breath? Let the girl have her Nutrigrain bar. It’s not like she’s going to have a side of soft-serve ice cream with it.
Internal Motivational Speaker: I am sick and tired of you bossing me around! I don’t care that you have your fancy pepsinogen and that Pyloric sphincter. (her voice crescendos to a vehement peak) You aren’t the boss of me. I have every right to my opinions!
Stomach: All you do is nag! Eat this, don’t eat this. Spend all that money on organic foods. Don’t drink too much caffiene. Make sure you test. Make sure you bolus. Cripes, can’t she have a break?
Internal Motivational Speaker: No! This is full time! Twenty-four hours a day. I work long hours, you know, Stomach. Some of us don’t have the luxury of taking our time to digest!
Rocco looks at me with pleading eyes. “Growl, growl.” I know, Rocco. I’m starving. Let’s go downstairs and get a snack while they’re arguing.
Stomach: Do you ever stop?
Internal Motivational Speaker: Does your mom ever stop?
Stomach: Don’t you be bringing my mom into this!
Dollar clutched in my hand and leading Rocco by his chain, we sneak out. A few minutes later, I’m bolusing for the 25 grams of carbohydrate and Rocco is licking blueberry Nutrigrain crumbs off his paws.