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| "AMERICA'S FUNNIEST HUMOR"TM
SHOWCASE
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February
/ March 2006 Contest Results |
The
Nutrition Mom
Who Needs To Be Resuscitated After Finding Out You Fed Her Child A
Hotdog
By Lisa Perry, Colorado
Nutrition Moms
can be annoying; however, if the truth be told, I am quite sure that I
am more annoying to them.
One day a mom
asked if I’d like to have lunch with her, but little did I know that she
was actually a Nutrition Mom.
After we were seated at the restaurant, I ordered a diet soda and
watched her pupils dilate to the size of nine-grain bagels.
I asked, “What’s wrong?”
“You’re not going to actually drink that are you?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Oh, it’s just a little thing called SACCHARIN, which causes mice to
roll over on their backs with their little feet in the air and gasp
their last breath.”
“I didn’t know mice could gasp. Where did you learn that?”
“That’s not the point,” she said irritably.
She then ordered a boneless, skinless chicken breast and asparagus,
along with a salad with no dressing.
I ordered a
double bacon-wrapped bratwurst with extra cheese on a white bun with
Super-Size fries. The waiter asked, “Would you like a salad like the one
she’s having?”
“What’s in it?”
“Organic collard greens, red chard, arugula, and red leaf lettuce with a
low-fat dressing made with canola oil, which is heart-healthy.”
“Nah. I’ll have the Iceberg lettuce with extra Thousand Island
dressing.”
The Nutrition Mom gagged, and the waiter left smiling.
The Nutrition Mom asked what I’d been doing lately.
I thought a minute. “On Friday night we went to a restaurant whose
specialty is charred ham fat and it was delicious. Then on Saturday
night we stayed home and my husband grilled one-pound steaks for each of
us, with seven-cheese au gratin potatoes, corn pudding, rice pudding and
chocolate pudding for dessert. It was one of my theme dinners. Then we
ate Cool Whip right out of the carton. It comes in chocolate flavor now.
What have you been doing?”
She looked like she was trying to process what I’d just said. Finally
she rallied. “I went to the opening of the new Health Foods last week.
It’s so refreshing to go somewhere where you know that everything is
organic.”
My mind drifted off to the three-pound package of butterscotch cookies
I’d be buying at Sam’s Club later.
Our waiter arrived with our salads. I leaned over and looked at her
salad. “Which is the arugula? I don’t think I’ve ever had that.”
The Nutrition Mom pointed it out with her fork.
I said, “Just this morning I noticed the same stuff growing by my front
sidewalk. I hit it with Round Up.”
I asked if she had tried any new recipes lately. She said that her
sister had given her a great tofu steak recipe with a vegetarian
barbecue sauce.
I brightened. “I tried something recently, too. I used pork fat to make
beef fondue. It was fabulous. You’d be surprised how much flavor pork
fat adds to chuck beef if you don’t cook it too long.”
She closed her eyes tightly and didn’t open them again for quite a few
seconds.
She said, “By the way, next week I’ll be out of town at
The Mother’s March on Washington for the Elimination of Partially
Hydrogenated Vegetable Oils.”
“Cool.” I was impressed. “What’s partially hydrogenated vegetable oil?”
“It happens to be one of the worst things you can eat. It’s in all kinds
of crackers, cookies, frostings, candy, even peanut butter.”
“Good for you. How great to stand up for something you really believe
in.”
“Yes,” she said. “It's wonderful. Actually, in terms of fat, butter is
better for you.”
I said, “Butter is better for you?” Now she was talking about something
I could really endorse.
“Much better,” she assured me.
“Great. I eat it straight sometimes. I just love butter.”
“Then you should go with me to Washington. We need one more person to
hold up a sign.”
“What would my sign say?” I asked. “Would it have anything to do with
butter?”
“As a matter of fact, it would. We need someone to hold the sign that
says, ‘Get Off Your Lard Ass and Eat Butter.’ Would you be interested?”
I smiled. “It has my name written all over it.”
http://www.thewomanwhoisalwaystan.com
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