The pissy snipe monster

Captain’s Log, Stardate 05.17.2010

Yesterday we had worship leader’s meeting at church right after the 10 a.m. service, and the meeting went a bit long. We didn’t go off on any tangents or anything like that, we just happened to have a lot to discuss.

I had been a good girl and eaten a big bowl of oatmeal before service, and I ate one of my mom’s energy bars in meeting, but when we got out of the meeting, I was cranky and hungry. Or rather, the order should be hungry and cranky. When I am hungry, I turn into the pissy snipe monster.

Captain Caffeine took his life into his hands when he casually admitted he wasn’t very hungry because he’d drunk some high-tech protein shake with time-release protein something or other. However, being the loving wife that I am, I forgave him his lapse of sensitivity while his wife’s stomach acid was burning a hole through her stomach lining.

Captain Caffeine, wanting to tame the rabid dog he had married, suggested I eat another energy bar. Now don’t get me wrong, Mom’s energy bars are DA BOMB. Rice krispies, peanut butter, nuts, cranberries, pumpkin seeds. They are AWESOME.

But when I’m hungry, I’m really not that into “snacky” foods. I want REAL FOOD. (This is my one beef with a diet book I’m reading that emphasizes 3 meals and 3 snacks each day. While I completely see the logic of it, it relies on (healthy) snacky stuff as opposed to REAL FOOD, and I don’t really care that much for snacky stuff in general, with the exception of potato chips, but that kind of defeats the purpose of the 3 healthy snacks to keep you from stuffing your face like a pig at mealtimes.)

Back to my empty stomach and fraying temper. After bemoaning my lack of interest in snack food and my desire for a French dip sandwich instead, I saw that Captain Caffeine was reaching for the crucifix, holy water and wooden stake in case I turned on him.

We went to Trader Joe’s to pick up milk and I found a bag of cheddar cheese pita chips appealing despite my ranting about how I dislike snack foods only fifteen minutes earlier. The Captain wisely refrained from commenting on my illogic and bought the bag faster than you can say “Eat.”

Pissy snipe monster miraculously turned back into the Captain’s lovely Japanese wife. And we went home to eat leftover steak and some awesomely sweet sautéed young snow peas with garlic and olive oil.

The End.