Dear Bread, Pasta, Various Other Starches, Cheese and Sugar:
You and I have been inseparable for many, many years. I can’t even express how much I love you — truly love you — in all your wonderful, delectable forms.
Unfortunately, Eddie is making me give you up. It’s that damn CrossFit addiction. I wish there could be an Al Anon-type support system for spouses of members of the CrossFit cult.
Apparently, that CrossFit prescription of “constantly varied, high intensity, functional movement” also means “Don’t you dare put more than five grams of sugar in your mouth each day, and eat only meat, seeds, nuts and vegetables all caveman-style.”
So the children and I, being CrossFit heathens, have unhealthy habits and must conform. In good conscience, I can’t continue to spend time with you, let alone invite you into our house. I could go rogue, but the guilt would be too much to handle.
I love you — you know I do. I just can’t see you anymore. Please know that this isn’t easy for me. In fact (and I’m looking at you, Bread), I want to hang out with you right now. Especially if you are hot and bringing your friend Butter.
But I can’t.
I’m sure I’ll see you once in a while, out and about. That’s it. I hope you understand.
Love always,
Beth