This weekend I am heading to the land of, "I know you don't eat meat so I roasted you a chicken."
I promised DH I wouldn't sneak a cooler of food in to hide under the bed, but magically this week I don't welcome a mandated fast. (I am in that special week before PMS when the tummy is as flat as it's ever going to be. I don't want to appear concave and have to hear dead silence I go to the bathroom. People love to spur a good bulimic rumor on).
So how to be stealth about sneaking my "hippie/rabbit food" in is the problem. Giant red coolers (all we have) don't mask well even in the pit of night.
I used to go down and live on bagels, until I read that they take 3 days to digest. Bagels were hanging around in the enzyme-line for weeks.
There is a Starbucks within reasonable distance, so I could pretend to go jogging and dive into lattes and scones and Wifi.
That actually sounds pretty perfect-I can hang out with all the other vegetarians whose husband's families really don't understand why they don't eat meat.
"Even fish? Really? But fish isn't meat..." Best to smile, nod and dream of foamy caffeine.