While in New York this past February, I wanted to explore, see and eat as much as I possibly could because it was my birthday and also because I was only there for two days.
That Sunday, before our late afternoon flight, M and I had brunch at a cute little diner. Soon after I got two cupcakes from Dean & Deluca. Then, right before we cabbed to JFK, I stopped for another slice of pizza from La Pizza Suprema. All in about 4 hours.
By the time we got to the pizzeria, M was crying uncle. He was full to bursting and could not understand where I was putting it.
I refused to show him my hollow leg.
Today we are having a rematch.
Rules: Take a photo of everything you eat and drink (water excluded), and you must eat normally.
(My best friend is getting married and sent this as a “Will you be my bridesmaid” favor! Adorable.)
Conclusion: I eat all the time. M does not.
“How does it feel to be eaten under the table by someone half your size?”
He only whimpered.
Perhaps I should consider professional eating as a career change.