My favorite gambling aunt has invited me to lunch mid-week. You'd think she could have invited me to the casino instead, wouldn't you! I'm sure she'd take me gambling if I asked her, any other day of the week.
Auntie is meeting with a couple of other retired Newmentia mentors. I know them, having worked in Lower Basementia with one, and paying the other, from Elementia, to take my ticket-selling game duties over the many years I was employed. Which I am not, currently. Nyah, nyah! I am seriously considering strapping on the ol' feedbag with Auntie. It's at the FelineFish Skillet!
Here's the thing. Mrs. HM has been cutting back. Making wiser choices. She's wise-choiced her way into dropping poundage over 5 tens-digits. Over 6. Over 7. Sure, there are still plenty of tens-digits waiting to be dropped. But Mrs. HM is quite proud of her accomplishment. And a lunch at an all-you-can-eat catfish house is not conducive to further falling poundage.
Auntie had talked about going to the FelineFish Skillert a couple weeks ago. You know, she said, it's really more economical to get the all-you-can-eat option. Because they bring you that platter, and let you box up what's left to take home. IF you don't have seconds on the original platter, of course. That's all well and good if there are only two of us. Or two of us and The Pony, like that one time when I had a meal for Farmer H left to cart home. But if there are four adults, most likely that platter of all-you-can-eat fare will be emptied. Or seconds asked for. So it is really NOT more economical, plus the temptation to overdo would be right in front of Mrs. HM.
I've already checked out the menu online. IF I go, I'm having the lunch plate of one meat and one side. Chicken and slaw. Sure, the wiser choice would be something grilled. But then what's the point of eating at the FelineFish Skillet? No use tempting fate by tempting Mrs. Hillbilly Mom with a bottomless plate of fried catfish, fried chicken, fried shrimp, potato wedges, hush puppies...and the million other sides that they try to avoid bringing you, even though it IS advertised as all-you-can-eat.
Mrs. HM did not get to be valedictorian by making unwise choices. No siree, Bob!