You know the score. Old friends arrive for a visit. It’s raining……hmmmmm, what shall we do?
The boys cook roast beef rib whilst the girls pop to the pub for a catch up.
Trog Mum buys ONE glass of wine each. When it comes to the next round of drinks, Trog Mum’s friend returns to the table with a BOTTLE of wine. Powerless to resist. That would be rude, right? It’s Jubilee Weekend. Have one for Her Majesty.
Big test for the new-to-Paleo family. I bloody love wine, me.
It is now D-Day plus 12 hours. My head is clear, but my gut is not. It feels a little bit like someone has taken a bicycle pump and jacked up my insides.
Oh God. Trog Kid is now running at me, full pelt, in a Power Ranger style karate stance – surely the impact will make me pop like a balloon? A nimble dodge negates the impact.
Moments later he is back, a large Nerf blaster his weapon of choice. Instinctively I grab the copy of Robb Wolf’s hardback, ‘The Paleo Solution’ which is sitting on the worktop. One deft swipe deflects the incoming missile. I’m like bloody WonderWoman.
Belch.
It has taken a full 11 weeks for Trog Mum to learn this valuable lesson. Liquid crap is just as bad for you as solid crap. My body is now a temple (albeit a temple at which no one has any desire to come and worship these days). Step away from the wine bucket, dear.
turningtroglodyte 