The Missing Magic Ball And The Marbles

Yvonne is making meatballs and when I say meat balls I mean meat balls.  There are no veggies, binders or anything else in these perfectly concocted round treats.

These are pure protein.

We are entering another week where any type of carbohydrate consumed is a sin against nature.

In a last-ditch effort to shed the extra weight before our European excursion we have de-glutenized, de-white-floured and de-grained our house.

We have  wiped out a whole chunk of the food pyramid and focused our efforts on nourishment coming from the flesh of animals.

Protein, protein, protein is the key.

(Somewhere a vegan is having a massive coronary over my prior statement)

These magic meatballs will stay together by the sheer will and fear imposed on them by their cook – ‘bind, dammit, bind’  she says as she rolls them into the perfectly tablespoon size bites feeling the pounds shedding off her body.

These are the magic balls that are going to render us svelte and chic as we walk down a Parisian Boulevard after a summer of debauchery full of too much food and drink.

Madame Yvonne (aka Minga on a Diet)  has taken control of her kitchen again and as Labor Day rolls around so does the increased effort to starve ourselves into the perfect size, a size that will allow us to withstand numerous hours sitting in a coach seat, comfortably, somewhat.

I feel thinner already as she shares a picture of the meatballs with me, hoping to entice me on this bandwagon of  carbohydrate free-living that should get us through Tuesday of the following week.

(Our stringent efforts are always short-lived)

So I see the picture and I realize that she is one meatball short to fill her pan.

I know this is not going to sit well with her.

I envision her throwing out an entire row and re-spacing them on the pan to cater to her sense of symmetry.

But she is a woman on a mission and she dispels the OCD behavior that is haunting her and for the cause, lives with the fact that there is a lost ball.

All is good in the world or so we hope and then she tells me about the missing ball in a private text which she later posts on Instagram.

And there is the rub,  as I wonder if she realizes that in focusing on the missing lost ball, she also realizes something else is lost…

…her marbles.

  

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