Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

I don't know what it is, but when I get hungry, I morph into a slobbering beast. Seriously. The second my stomach recognizes a slight variance from being stuffed full, my inner Mr. Hyde emerges and wreaks havoc on any unsuspecting and suspecting victims alike. Today was no different. I walked through the door after work, went straight to the fridge, snarled at Josh to never look at me again let alone think about talking to me, and began the soothing process of eating spaghetti until my stomach bloated to the nice, comfortable size of a large truck wheel (I exaggerate not; my stomach might as well be ripped off my body and used as some kind of flotation device). But thats the problem with us Asay's (you'll find that in my family, if one acquires an undesirable characteristic, its easily excused with, "Its because I'm an Asay..." and followed with, "...I can't help it." Seriously. Once I complained to my mom about my shoes not matching right and she said it was because I was an Asay and that I couldn't help it. I asked her what that had to do with anything, that my shoes not matching my outfit was because they were black and my belt was brown. She replied that I wouldn't understand such things because I'm an Asay and that I really can't help it.). We eat until our body goes numb and we near unconsciousness; its sort of like a trance. I would agree that it could be described as pathetic, but we're Asays and we can't help it! Lay off!

I am sometimes able to disguise my utter hatred for anything human in such a state of hunger, but rarely. I would have tried to disguise my hunger-beast today, but I think that since I went on a grandma walk (I take walks during lunch to keep from sitting down all day. Josh calls them my 'grandma walks.'), I was extra hungry. Yeah, walking around in bubble gum colored scrubs around a park makes me really hungry. Although, I don't know if you can accurately call them 'grandma walks,' since the other grandma in the office just got her eyes done and a neck lift. She doesn't look much like a grandma now... maybe I am the only grandma. Maybe I should get a neck lift to compete with her. Maybe I should get my eyes done, ears tucked, lipo, lip injections, tummy-tuck, and implants all in the name of trying to look 25 when I'm 90. She isn't 90, more like 65. I think she looks 64 now.

Josh just did an impression of me, calling me 'a bear that almost ate his arm off.' He then asked if he should move the couch or if I was interested in eating that too. Not like he can talk. He becomes a beast as well, but never seems to be able to recognize that it happens when he's hungry. Now he just did an impression of what I looked like while eating. A lot of snarling, drooling, eyes rolling into the back of the head, and fist pumping was involved. Some things are below the belt... especially when I wasn't in my right mind and am an Asay and can't help it.