Hey, remember that old Disney cartoon where Goofy is all calm and reasonable as a pedestrian but as soon as he gets behind the wheel he goes nutso? Well, I would never have accused DH of being entirely calm or reasonable, but I discovered this week that he is capable of a level of crazy I never knew existed. His heretofore unknown dark side is released from the bonds of conscience and loosed upon the world not by driving a car or drinking a potion, but rather by the mysterious force of an all-you-can-eat tropical resort buffet. For this reason, it shall be named "Buffadrian". And Buffadrian wants you to get his money's worth.
The kids found Buffadrian confusing and frightening. Most of their lives they've been subjected to constant reminders to eat their fruits and vegetables, but when they returned from the buffet line with nutritionally-balanced plates Buffadrian shook fistfuls of crab legs at them and growled through a mouthful of prime rib, "Why are you little idiots eating salad?! Stop that this instant and go get more animals!" Gravy frothed at the corners of his mouth. The kids glanced nervously at me - Ms. Eat Your Vegetables herself - then decided I was the least terrifying parent at the moment and scurried off to load up on meat.
Buffadrian turned his deranged gaze to my plate - more vegetables! Buns! In fact, no meat at all! "Oh, shut up," I said preemptively, "I'm saving myself for dessert." Buffadrian's mental buffet ledger, however, accounts only for transactions made in cash, credit and animal protein. He rolled his eyes dramatically and sighed - never mind that I went on to eat a fish fillet and a cool half-dozen mini desserts, I was just one more person he would have to eat for this night.
But that was a challenge Buffadrian was willing to tackle.
Unfortunately for DH, this was a decision made by Buffadrian yet suffered by himself, beginning just as soon as the siren song of the buffet had released its hold on his personality. Later that night when he asked the family, "Why did you make me eat so much?" - while he cradled his distended belly and rocked in pain - he genuinely seemed to mean why did we, personally, by the act of clearly not eating enough buffet, directly force him to make up for our collective shortfall by eating All The Things?
I patted his Food Baby and smiled, knowing that there would be a breakfast buffet the next morning and that I would soon be the proud progenitor of twins.