Intuitive Eating - an embarrassing anecdote
Monday, November 26, 2012
On the weekend, we stayed with my parents. A great weekend. Lots of mountain biking, including one with my husband whilst the kids were with their grandparents.
Mum and Dad love to have family to stay, and it often involves presenting cakes, chocolates, biscuits, etc for our enjoyment.
Sunday afternoon we have a fresh & tasty barbecue lunch, which was lovely. Then mum produced a 'Boston Bun' to have with a cup of tea afterwards. I love Boston bun (a bun with sultanas in it, iced with a kind of fake creamy icing and sprinkled with coconut - spread with butter of course). So I took a slice whilst the tea was being made. I really enjoyed it, especially as I was hungry after a challenging MT bike ride. There were a few slices left on the platter.
Anyway - Mum got distracted making the tea, and one of the kids needed attention, and then my sister was leaving. In the confusion, my sister's dog jumped up on the table and stole a piece of bun. Boston Bun! Criminal dog!
Anyway - growled at the dog, said goodbye to my sister then cleared the table.
And there I am looking very closely at the remaining pieces of bun to see if there was any evidence that the dog had touched them. Did I tell you that I love Boston Bun? I really think that the dog just got one piece and did not touch the others.
WHAT? What am I thinking? That it might be worth getting dog germs in order to have one more piece of delicious Boston Bun. (I can't believe that I am admitting this)
Then I remembered the Intuitive Eating philosophy. I can eat anything I want - right? So if I really want a Boston Bun, I can go down to the shop right now, or tomorrow, or every day for the next 3 weeks and buy a whole Boston Bun all to myself, and not share it with anyone - certainly not my sister's naughty dog.
This is exactly what Intuitive Eating is talking about - that is not the last piece of Boston Bun in the world (if it was, I would have eaten it) - so let go of the 'last meal' mentality, and throw the bun in the rubbish.
I am certainly not giving it to the dog,