Secret eaters diaries
Wednesday August 1st
Goals achieved last month.
# Managed to walk almost two thousand steps every day.
# Lost seven pounds in weight.
# Made love to Helen four and a half times.
Last month I would have walked almost double that amount, but since I started my diet I’ve managed to cut out all my regular trips to the fridge. Sneaking in the kitchen during the adverts for a stick of celery or a Ryvita somehow doesn’t seem quite as appealing as sneaking off for a pork pie or a chocolate bar.
Helen says she's very proud, but I suspect that's partially down to they're being more chocolate digestives for her to get her teeth stuck into.
Is it just me or are people who can constantly eat without ever gaining an ounce just really annoying?
I’ve also managed to slim down to just under eighteen stones in weight. Or as my daughter was nice enough to put it. “At least you don’t weight the same as a baby hippo anymore, dad. Now you weight the same as a baby hippo on a diet.”
I think she was trying to be encouraging, but as per usual with Sophie, her words of encouragement got mistranslated somewhere between her brain and her mouth. Fortunately, I was far too smug to let it bother me. Especially as I’d also noticed I was only a few centimetres away from using the original buckle holes on my belt.
I was feeling so so pleased with myself I asked Helen if I should put a request on the local Facebook group for any sewing machinists who’d be able to take my trousers and underpants in a couple of inches. She didn’t reply. She just gave me a look similar to the one I give next doors cat when I see it pissing against the garden fence.
I think part of the reason I’m doing so well with my diet and exercise is finally getting my sex life back on track. Although four and half times might not seem very much, compared to my recent drought, before I was prescribed viagra, it’s practically a flood. It should have been five times, but last night our daughter Sophie spotted a spider running across her bedroom ceiling and decided I was the one who had to deal with it. Fortunately, we’d heard her scream before she came thundering across the hallway, so Helen had already performed a tactical dismount before a wide eyed and petrified Sophie knocked on the door and then immediately barged her way inside. I dread to think what expression she would have had if we hadn’t heard her coming. I really must remember to put a lock on our bedroom door before the next spider invasion.
Dealing with spiders didn’t used to be an issue. We’d just kill them with a rolled up newspaper and then throw it's crushed up carcass in the bin. However since our daughter decided to become a vegan it’s become a whole different ball game. Nowadays, not only am i not allowed to kill them, but I have to catch the buggers and release them back into the wild again.
Sophie says veganism was her idea, but personally I blame our son’s girlfriend, Abigail the animal right activist. Before Abigail started exerting her ‘Meat is murder’ influence, on our daughter, Sophie would’ve have been urging me on to give the them a whack on the back of their spidery heads, not threatening to call the RSPCA, because i accidentally pulled one of its legs off.
“Are you sure I can’t just kill it?” I asked, chasing it around the bedroom ceiling with an upturned cup.”It’s only a little one. It probably won’t even feel it if I give it a really quick splat.”
“It doesn’t matter how small it is,” Said Sophie, talking to me through a crack in the bedroom door while she cowered outside in her pyjamas. “It’s still one of God’s harmless creatures. It deserves to live just like the rest of us.”
“If Mother Nature didn’t wanted us to kill spiders she wouldn’t have given them so many legs to run away with when i’m trying to catch the buggers,” I said, almost crashing into the wardrobe as I made another unsuccessful lunge. “And if it’s that bloody harmless why do I have to catch it and throw it out? I’m sure it’s perfectly happy living in your bedroom ?”
Sophie shook her head and backed even further away from the door. “No way. Have you seen them? They’re all hairy and horrible. I don’t want it anywhere near my bedroom thank you very much.”
I said, “Well Timothy’s all hairy and horrible but it doesn’t stop you nagging me to let you bring him up here.”
Timothy is Sophie’s gargantuan boyfriend. Although he’s only thirteen, the same age as my daughter, he’s almost twice her size and has so much ginger facial hair he wouldn’t look out of place playing an extra in ‘The Planet Of The Apes.’ There’s no doubt he’s a nice enough lad, I just don’t want him anywhere near my daughters bedroom no matter how many times she asks. At least not without a muzzle and a combination locked jockstrap.
I’m just glad Sophie’s inherited her Mother’s brains and common sense, rather than just her beauty. If she’d inherited mine she’d probably already be another teenage pregnancy statistic. It’s bad enough knowing that since he moved in to my garden shed, my son and his girlfriend are constantly at it like a couple of rabbits, without having to worry about my daughter, too. Sometimes the shed is rattling so fast it’s in danger of rolling over into next doors garden.
Sophie pouted and folded her arms. “You do know you're not funny, dad. Timothy’s legs aren’t anywhere near as gross as a spiders. And even if they were, I still probably wouldn’t scream if he dropped down on top of me in the middle of the night and started crawling up my nightie.”
I paused my arachnid hunt and glanced across at my daughter to make sure she wasn’t being serious. The smirk on her face told me she probably wasn’t. That girl really is too clever for her own bloody good.
Sophie said, “I don’t know why you keep going on about me and Timothy anyway. From what I can tell It’s you and mum who can’t control your urges. I do know what you’re doing in there you know. I can hear you both moaning and groaning from my room.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied. “All we’ve been doing in there is moving a wardrobe.”
“Well can you hurry up and decide where you’re putting it,” Scoffed Sophie. “That’s the fifth time you’ve moved it in the last few weeks.”
Eventually, after almost breaking my neck half a dozen times, and making a mental note to put the radio on the next time Helen and I decide to move the wardrobe, I managed to corner the spider close to the window frame, and slipped it into the mug. I was about to take it out into garden when i noticed it only had seven legs. Well seven legs and a stump. “I don’t believe this,” I said, “This is the same bloody spider you made me catch in the bathroom last week. It must have sneaked back inside when i wasn’t looking.”
“Well how far did you throw it away,” Asked Sophie.
“I don’t know. I just threw it on the lawn outside the back door.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “God dad. Everybody knows spiders have a homing instinct. If you don’t take them far enough away they just come back inside where it’s warm.”
“A homing instinct? It’s a spider not a bloody pigeon. What about if I pulled another one of its legs off? It would be able to find its way back if it was crawling round in circles.”
“Stop being so horrible. Just take it a bit further away.”
“Well how much further away? What about if i stuck it in the back of the taxi? I could drop it off in town the next time I’m there. Doubt it would leave much of a tip though.”
Sophie sighed and shook her head again. “Why can’t you just be normal like everybody else’s dad’s? All you have to do is take it the end of the garden and drop it over the fence like I said last time. I’ll let you know if I find anymore. Thanks dad,” Then she disappeared into her room again.
When i went outside Andrew and Abigail were going at it like the clappers in the shed again. Where that boy gets his stamina from I’ve no idea. He certainly didn’t get it from me. Although i’m a lot more energetic during my lovemaking than I was before I started my diet, I still have to stop halfway through for a glass of Lucozade Sport.
Rather than walking past the shed and possibly catching a glimpse through the window of something I really didn’t want to see, I decided to drop the spider over the fence into next door’s garden. If it’s looking for a home it can move into Ron’s house instead of mine.
I was about to release it when I noticed Ron’s fat ginger tom, Hercules, appear at the side of his green bin. He was slowly licking his lips and had a hungry look in his eye.
Diary, I have no idea whether cats eat arachnids, but after spending ten minutes trying to catch this one there was no way I was about to turn it over to next doors cat for a late night snack. Thankfully the shed had stopped rattling by this point so I quickly dropped it over the back fence and went inside. When I got back upstairs Helen was snoring away. I tried to wake her but she kept pushing my hand away, and saying, “Oh, I can't be bothered now, Eric. Let me get some sleep.”
Talk about a waste of a viagra. If nothing else, it’s comforting to know my love making skills are worth staying awake for.
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Last edited by Rincewind; 04-26-2018 at 03:36 AM..