Low calorie, high cardboard

Lee Ann Setzer

Like Doug, I’m 42 and appalled at what my body did to me while I wasn’t looking. And, like Doug, I’m not going to take it sitting down (since sitting down caused the problem).

So I joined the gym, and they advised eating a serving of protein after exercising. For some reason, it seemed like a good idea to try making these myself. Found a recipe involving whey, egg whites, and copious amounts of powdered milk. The critics were not impressed:

Number one son: Tastes like dark matter.
Number two son: Tastes like absolute zero. (We have a scientific turn of phrase around here)
Daughter: Yuck!
Husband (who’s usually not too picky): Umm...better try again.
Mother (who happened to be visiting): Wow. If I had to eat that after exercising, I’d never exercise.

So there they sat, mocking me (the protein bars, not the family members). Decided after a couple of days to exact revenge. I put them in the food processor, added butter and brown sugar, ground them up, and baked them again, this time with apples, sugar, and cinnamon. Presto! Cardboard crisp! Everyone ate it, and it’s gone now. I win.

Doug, the sad moral of the story is for you: There is no problem so great that a little cholesterol and sugar can’t solve it.

Losing It

by Shirley Bahlmann
We want to look good when we have book signings and public appearances to meet our readers, don't we? I work best with a goal in mind, and I was only trying to motivate myself when I challenged my husband, Bob, to a weight loss contest.
I don't know what possessed me. I must have been as full as a stuffed turkey when I did it.
"Let's see who can lose 20 pounds first," I said.
Bob raised one eyebrow. "What does the winner get?"
A cream filled Boston Cream pie came to mind, but before the words reached my mouth, I realized it was a counter-productive reward. Hm. What would be worth losing weight for?
Then it hit me. "Whoever wins gets to pick the tile for our kitchen when we remodel," I said.
I think Bob nodded. Maybe he lowered his head to his hand, but I turned away so fast I can't be sure.
We started out on even ground. But three days ago, I caught Bob cheating. Can you believe it? He caught some kind of germ that made him so sick he couldn't keep anything down for two days.
Today, he announced cheerfully, "I lost eight pounds."
Maybe I'll tell him he needs to lose 28 pounds to my 20. It's only fair.