After two weeks, and only 4 days to go, I finally dropped the potato bomb last night. I was eating my soup, as I do every stinkin´night for dinner, and had eaten all of it except for the potatoes, when my host mother finally asked me if I liked potatoes. I answered in the negative. I half expected her to treat me as if I had just told her I skin dalmation puppies to make fur coats, but instead she laughed. She laughed a lot. Then she asked if the people of Pennsylvania don´t eat potatoes, and I tried to explain that everyone in the world eats potatoes but me. I think my life would have been a lot easier if I had just ´fessed up from the beginning.
I knew coming here that one of two things was going to happen: I was going to learn to eat potatoes or I was going to lose a lot of weight. Well, I´m never going to learn to eat potatoes. It´s just not gonna happen. I´ve tried. When I was served mashed potatoes yesterday for lunch, I ate as much as I could by putting a little bit on the back of my tongue, then swallowing it whole and washing it down with passion fruit juice, but I could only do it for so long. Seriously, what is the big deal?
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2 comments:
Merticus LOVES mashed potatoes. Now that he has figured out that I can make garlic mashed potatoes, I think I will making a LOT of mashed potatoes now.
It's okay Kelli. I only like French Fries...I dont see what the big deal is either. At least your host got a good laugh!
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