Free-Floating Hostility

Saturday, December 10, 2005

Art isn't Queasy (but he Deserves to be)

For a few days there, my Dad was ready to change the way he eats. I had offered to give him a little nutritional counseling, fully expecting him to say no, but he surprised me. It was, apparently, seeing Mike in his pajamas that convinced him I was on to something. So today, we went over how dad eats. Breakfast was exemplary--bananas, milk and wheat bran. Lunch was a peanut butter sandwich--nothing inherently wrong with that. So I asked him what he had to go with the peanut butter, his usual is bananas? honey? jam? Not today. Today Dad was eating peanut butter and cream cheese. I made him repeat it three times. Nutrition is terribly complicated, but sometimes an area ripe for intervention just presents itself to you. By the end of our consultation, Dad was no longer interested in my advice.

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