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My birthday lunch

It felt really good to me to eat normal food on my birthday. We stopped at Ruby Tuesday's, as we'd planned, and I ordered a burger and onion rings. We had cake for dessert. (And cupcakes for breakfast!) There's a part of me that would just like to get off the food roller coaster I've been on my whole life, and just eat.

I know what happens, however, when I "just eat." I'm grateful to have found a way to eat that reduces pain and inflammation and also helps me lose a little weight. I've struggled for so long – I need to be okay with eating normal food once in a while.

And really? Since when is a big old pretzel burger "normal?" I might need to rethink a couple things. Heh.

I've been thinking about the family that sat near us in the restaurant. Mom, Dad, two little girls, and a grandpa, who was clearly Dad's dad.

Dad was opinionated. And loud. They were sitting at two tables-for-four pushed together, and the men were sitting at the heads of the long table. I feel fairly certain the dad spoke loudly so his dad could hear him.

But so could everyone else on our side of the restaurant.

He talked and talked and talked, mostly about church things. Bible camp. Going to hell if you don't do the right thing. The unfairness of having to pay for a school field trip for one of his daughters. (To her credit, she spoke up and said how much fun the trip was.)

I was uncomfortable. Dad, of course, paid no attention to us, as he was all about himself and his opinions. One of those.

The server was a young woman who happened to mention she was pregnant. Which started a whole new round of inappropriate conversation. She pulled out her phone to show off the ultrasound. Talked about trying on wedding dresses with a baby-bump pillow insertion. Accepted an extra-generous tip from Dad with effusive thanks.

I'm still trying to work it all out in my head why I was so put off by all of it. It was none of my business, and there wasn't a darned thing I could do about it. I wouldn't describe myself as religious. I do have a spiritual life, but I rarely discuss it and certainly not in a public place.

I don't much care for this judgmental side of me, and maybe my lesson was to learn to be more tolerant. I'm working on it.

But I hope I don't get tested again too soon.

Comments

Anonymous said…
You're allowed to be just as judge-y as you want inside your head. It's what you say and do to others that matters.

Pretzel burger: maybe not "normal" but sounds delicious!

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