I just wish we could have a more functional relationship. It’s not me, it’s you…all you. Honey wheat, dinner rolls, cake, rye… if you didn’t basically just wad up into a doughy ball after I ingest you and slap yourself to my ass loving you all the time wouldn’t be a struggle. Or, maybe you could work on making my A-cups into B-cups, my ass does not need you the way those things do. I’ve proven my feelings over and over again.
What can you do for me, Carbs? Help me, help us.
I’m not sure I’ve ever told you, there is a joke within my family regarding just how many rolls I can eat during holiday functions. I’m not even picky, give me 12 store bought rolls that have been sitting out for 5 hours and I’ll eat that shit right up with no regrets. You embarrass me.
I blame you for the tire that appears here and there above my favorite pair of jeans, it’s when that happens I realize the time spent with you needs to be monitored, like supervised visitations. I have to tell everyone who strikes up a conversation with me that I’m watching you, keeping a close eye. I even invite others to get all up in our business…
“Please take these away.”
-Me, regarding bread, chips, beer, rice, potatoes…
We just need to find a happy medium. One where you don’t make me feel uncomfortable and gross. I think the word might be, moderation. That’s what we’ll work on, Carbs. Me and you. We got this.
Love & Hate,