Today I ate more than I should have, even though I wasn’t hungry, because when Dad makes food with the intention of sharing, I have two choices:
1. I can share with him, and we’re all happy for a multitude of reasons.
2. I can reject his bid, forego the happiness above, and leave him to eat way more than he should.
My waistline is glad I only visit once in a while.
I’m glad to be visiting.