When do our self-inflicted eating restrictions end?
I think there aught to be a declared age, starting with us boomers, let’s make it 70, that when we hit that age, we get to eat whatever we want. Milkshakes for breakfast, pizza every weekend (for those that love it as much as I do, and are 70 or older.) Real butter, more than they say we should have. How about a small lake of it in the middle of our mashed potatoes, made with cream, not skim milk. Going to a movie? Forget the “small” popcorn, no butter. Make it a bucket for every qualifier, and a regular Dr. Pepper to wash it down. None of that artificial stuff. (Don’t forget my discount.)
You’re up late watching a movie and you’d like to have some nice healthy grapes. No problem. Wait a minute… you’re diabetic and should limit yourself to six small grapes? No thanks, a bunch will be just fine.
I mean, really… what are we trying to do… extend our life to 92 instead of dieing at the wee early age of 87? I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, I don’t do any drugs other than the ones my doctor tells me to take.
Give me a break. Just let me “live on the edge” in my seventies and (hopefully) eighties, have my cake (chocolate on chocolate please) and eat it too.
Anyone else feel the same way? Let’s hear it. Maybe we can start a movement.