Return of the Bourbonator
So we’ve currently got a houseguest in the form of Hubby’s mate, J, who is staying with us for a couple of weeks. True to form, Bertie has fallen utterly and helplessly in love with J, abandoning his normal pattern of close Mummy surveillance to traipse lovingly around the house after J. Being an enormous man-mountain of an ex-boxer (Bertie’s got a bit of a thing for fellas, hence his obsession with Hubby and D next door) and a bit of a biscuit monster himself, J is Bertie’s ideal man, adopting a kind of ‘one for you, one for me’ biscuit eating technique that makes Bertie a very happy doggy. Plus, being a smoker, J is prime walkies material. It’s a match made in heaven.
We went out to dinner with friends on Friday, leaving J and Bertie to have a boys’ night in together. When we came back, they’d shared a large pizza and all the biscuits that wouldn’t fit in the barrel and J was sitting on the sofa, looking rather uncomfy with an entire greyhound balanced precariously on his lap, burping happily.
Still, in the true manner of all binge eaters (and before I get an angry comment from J about abusing her darling boy), last night Bertie ate two clementines, several carrots and all the mushy peas leftover from dinner. That’s okay then.
Can you tell I am NOT going to be very successful with that diet-thing?
(speechless)
Ooooh, Missy! You’re for it the next time I’m up in the wilds of Cavan! :O As for J, you tell him I’m gonna kick his defenseless-greyhound-stuffing-biscuit-force-feeding ass.
Grrrrrrrr!!!!
Foreigner: dahling, I thought that the good calorie neutralising bad calorie theory was a scientifically proven fact. You and me both, girl x
J: I’m sorry…really really sorry… Oh and J? He’s a big lad (!)x
Having said all that, you righteously caught me in the act of giving Bertie treats more than once, so I’d best abandon my pulpit and admit that I too, am a secret treat giver (shame!)
ahem…is it not written somewhere on the Rosetta Stone that any vegetables consumed cancel out choccy and wine?…no..oh dear.
I’m nearly positive that the amount of calories burned during the process of ‘guilt’ and ‘denial’ after a face-first-in-a-box-of-chocolates episode is inversely proportional to the amount of calories consumed.
Join me in a brick sized bar of Green & Blacks washed down with an enormous glass of Cab Sav?
Sssslllluuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrpppppppppppp!!!!!