Sweet Genes
This morning, over IM:
Me: Mom saw alfajores with expiration date nov 28 (the day she gets here). She asked me if she should get them?
Joey: So we have to eat them all when she arrives
Me: She reminds me that last Christmas, the chocolate house was kind of stale, and you ate it with passion…
Joey: True-true
Me: (silence)
Joey: Bring em on!
Me: You crack me up
Joey: I’ll be here all week… Tip your waitresses!
Just a few days ago, with a face of concern, Joey tells me that everyone in his family is losing weight (and working at it), except for him. I nod. He then asks if I’m going to get on a diet as soon as the baby is born, kind of hinting that maybe he will get on a diet too, at that time — not sooner, of course.
This poor baby is doomed: He’s getting some serious genes of sugar addiction. And I can already tell, by the spirited way how he signals that it’s time for our daily cocoa and croissant snack.