Over the years I have tried to change Adam’s style of eating many, many times. He’s a busy man who eats for convenience, whatever he can get his hands on that satiates his hunger now! Right now!
This means that oftentimes he subsists for weeks on little else but carbohydrates and refined sugar. He’s also a pretty active guy, playing hockey in the winter, baseball in the summer, and is physically active for much of his job too. He’s lean, and so it’s hard to argue that he needed to eat better because eventually he’d rip off his shirt and slap his abs and all logic would fly out the window.
For the past five years I’ve worked evenings at the youth drop-in centre so I haven’t been around to cook dinner, but I’ve tried to shove some vegetables at him now and again to keep him going.
Adam’s dad went Paleo a while ago. This way of eating seems to agree with him enormously, he lost all of the extra weight he’d been carrying around, seems more energetic, and happy with the effects of this modified diet. Soon enough Adam’s mom followed suit, with similar results, then his sister and her family. Recently my mom did too.
(I’m a vegetarian, [here’s why] but they still love me. So far.)
Through it all, Adam has resisted the siren song of a diet change. He’s largely ignored his Dad’s enthusiastic encouragement and proselytizing, has always ignored my nagging and sighs of disgust as he tucks into a bag of Doritos. I barely have any tongue left after having to bite it so many times as he laments, “I’m tired. Why am I so tired?” after consuming nothing that day but a cup of coffee, a hamburger and a few beers.
So it seemed he wasn’t too interested in changing his diet. He IS interested in movies, however. And tonight he watched some movie largely endorsing the Paleo style of eating, and lo, it seems to have made an impression. (I ignored the irony of him watching it while polishing off a quizno’s sub)
After the movie ended he headed into the kitchen and started going through our cupboards.
“What’s this?” he cried, brandishing a jar full of quinoa, “And this?!” he said, pulling out a year old box of hot cereal of dubious origin (Who eats hot cereal? My grandparents?)
Feigning ignorance did nothing to deter him, the rampage continued. “No!” He admonished, as he poured a container of pancake mix into the trash. “No!” He cried again as he pulled out my baking supplies, my bin full flour and sugar
After tearing apart my kitchen for a few more minutes he lost interest and has now gone to have a nap, (“I’m so tired. Why am I so tired?”)
I’ll keep you posted on any new developments.