A Tale of Two Tenders

More evidence the hubs isn’t actively participating. Last night I was leaving the gym after work. Adam was already home with the kiddo, so I asked him what to pick up for dinner. After the usual back and forth of “I don’t care” and “Just pick something” (I swear, if we ever get divorced, it will be over deciding what or where to eat!), I said I had leftovers I could eat, so I would stop and get him and the nugget something at a drive-thru.

His pick? Popeyes Chicken.

My leftovers? Almond flour breaded, baked chicken tenders.

It was seriously all I could do not to tear into that box of greasy, fried goodness and macaroni and cheese on the drive home. Not that my meal wouldn’t be good, but it would be pale in comparison to what my family was about to eat. But I held strong, kept both hands on the wheel, and drove like hell to get that stuff out of my car!

We sat down at the table and the tiny one dove fingers first into the Mardi Gras Mustard spicy mustard dipping sauce. I don’t even think he wanted to dip his chicken in it – he pretty much just ate it with his spork. All I could think about was how terrible my night’s sleep was going to be with both of the men in my life having heartburn.

On a more serious note, I am currently wearing pants that haven’t fit comfortably in 6 months. After just 6 days on the program, I am feeling great and already starting to see results. What that tells me is just how terrible my eating habits must have really been.

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