My parents did an excellent job teaching me the importance of balanced nutrition.
As an adult, I’ve added my own neurotic twist. All food groups must be represented in a meal. I start to twitch if there’s not a fruit or veggie on my plate, and I would cheerfully suck milk straight from the cow if it were the only way I could get my three servings of dairy.
My husband, on the other hand, has a different idea of a balanced meal.
Here’s what was included in the first breakfast I ever watched him eat:
- Leftover Mexican food
- Fish sticks
- Fruit Loops
- Chocolate milk
One could argue (as he did) that there’s a fair amount of balanced nutrition in that meal, but still…eeew.
I should point out that he earned a degree in exercise physiology and has taken enough health and nutrition classes to be able to recite the citric acid cycle in his sleep.
Yet it’s not uncommon for him to come home from work and inform me the only thing he’s eaten all day is a Power Bar and an order of Chicken McNuggets.
Want to know what’s really unfair? Despite his rather unbalanced eating habits, here’s what my 41-year-old husband looks like shirtless:
I snapped that this past summer when he was at the local pool training for a triathlon. Obviously, his physique suffers greatly from the fact that he doesn’t share my incessant need to eat whole grains.
Of course, I don’t share his workout regimen either (the highlight of which is the notion that “a quick bike ride” means peddling 90 miles up the side of a mountain).
In the end, it all balances out. I don’t force-feed him salad and he doesn’t care that I sit on the sofa drinking wine while he runs on the treadmill.
Are you a neurotically healthy eater, or do you consider a bag of Starburst your daily ration of fruit? Please share.
And please feel free to ogle my husband. I certainly do.