There’s something wrong with our fridge. No matter how many times I open it, none of the good stuff magically materializes. No cake. No ice cream. No sister-in-law cookies.
I’m telling you, 10 calorie Jello cups just don’t cut it.
It’s not my stomach. It’s my brain. Here’s the conversation in front of the fridge:
Stomach: You know, I’m not really hungry…I don’t know why you’re rooting around in there.
Brain: There has to be leftover SOMETHING in here…maybe behind the… what is that called again?
Brain: Oh yeah. The stringy stuff. I hate that stuff. Hey…we have butter. I wonder if we have any powdered sugar?
Stomach: Tell me you are NOT thinking what I think you’re thinking.
Brain: What? How long does it take to make frosting?
Stomach: Look. LISTEN TO ME. I’m not hungry. Hellloooo…who is supposed to be sending the signals to whom?
Brain: Whatever. Hey. I could just dip the stick of butter in the powdered sugar. Voila. Don’t have to waste time making the frosting.
Stomach: I am turning over. I hope you can feel that. Are you sure you’re not a guy? That’s something a guy would do.
Brain: Okay. I admit, that’s a little excessive.
Brain: Please hold…sending a signal to the calculating side…how long frosting takes.
Stomach: ORANGE. LOOK AT THE LOVELY ORANGE IN THE BOWL. Pretty orange. Ummmm….smell it….doesn’t that smell good?
Brain: Are you kidding? Do you know how long those take to peel?
Stomach: You need help.
Brain: Do you know how long it would take for me to GET help?
Stomach: Why on God’s green earth are you the commander in chief? The gallbladder could do a better job. Heck the LIVER could do a better job.
Brain: Well I have all the electrical signals. So there.
Stomach: Did you really just say “neener neener” to me? If you have all the electrical signals, then some of them are NOT firing. Check your cells. I AM NOT HUNGRY.
Brain: Hunger Schmunger. Who cares? I just feel like eating.
Stomach: No. Actually, you DON’T. Would you please stop unplugging the circuit to me? If you’d just stop messing with the wiring all the time, you’d be fine.
Brain: Are you calling me neurotic?
Stomach: If the shoe fits…
Brain: You are SO going to pay for that.
Stomach: If I had eyes, I’d roll them. You’re telling me. Who do you think pays for it all the time? The rest of us. That’s who.
Stomach & Brain: SHUT UP!
Gallbladder: But I thought you said I’d do a better job!
Stomach: I was making a point, okay?
Stomach: Shut the fridge. NOW. If you don’t, every organ in here is going to start giving their two cents worth. I do NOT have the, well, stomach for this kind of drama, and YOU will get a migraine.
Stomach: You are such a baby. Plug the wires back in, okay? Or we’ll never get to sleep.
Stomach: I felt that. You hooked up to me again, didn’t you?
Stomach: And do you feel like eating?
Brain: Maybe. Maybe not.
Stomach: You don’t. I can tell.
Hypothalamus: If you two don’t knock it off I’m gonna connect to the primordial lizard brain and kick both your butts. Geeze. Go to bed!
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