No, not the steak!!

Tonight I went round to Mum and Dad's for dinner. I love it cos I miss mum's cooking. They don't know about the band, and have told them that I am furiously losing weight for the wedding, so please only serve me food on a bread and butter plate. Mum asked if I wanted to stay for dinner. "What are we having?" I ask... She replies: "Steak..". I start to feel this sick nauseated feeling in my stomach. I haven't attempted steak since I had my band (hence the reason why I'm boarderline anaemic!). She brought out the steak from the fridge. I had my fingers silently crossed that this steak would be small minute steak that I could attempt to get down... No, these were the biggest mother-fucking chunks of meat I had ever seen in my life. It looked as though each peice was the side of a cow. It would have been at least an inch deep and probably about 20 cm in length. I seriously did not know how I was going to be able to eat a third of that, let alone the whole thing. Thank god Mum asked me if I wanted to share a piece with her... I said yes.

Now, I love my meat... but I have come to the sad realisation that I will never be able to enjoy a nice barbequed piece of steak ever again... and I'm OK with that, really I am. This meat was cooked to perfection, with a nice thin edge of fat that gave it it's juicy goodness... I looked at my plate like I was mourning the death of an old friend. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to get two bites down, let alone the rest of the stuff on the plate (coleslaw, potato bake and salsa). Dad (or as we call him, the BBQ beef master) was very proud of his efforts to cook my steak to my liking (Medium) and was totally devastated when I left more than 3/4 of it! He kept on asking me why I wasn't eating it and if I liked it. I felt so bad, you could see the look of complete sadness from my Dad that I wasn't enjoying this hunk of cow... so I avoided eye contact with him for the whole meal, but I could tell he was watching me.



Didn't get the whole meal down, and I knew I wouldn't. I felt the familiar tightness in my chest and knew I had to excuse myself somehow. Now, a rule in our family is that you never get up to go to the toilet during a meal. I was up shit creek without a fucking paddle and the urgent need to relieve myself of the big chunk of cow that was lodged in my poor little stomach! I made up some pathetic excuse that I had something in my eye... that seemed to work.. So I made a quick exit to the bathroom to puke, came back and played with my food for the rest of the dinner.



My steak eating days are well and truely over!!! No word of a lie, this was the size of the piece of meat I had to attempt to eat tonight...