Sunday Afternoons (Part III)

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As a kid, I loved Sundays. Sundays were a day of special food; specifically junk food. 6 out of 7 days of the week, if we (my brother and I) asked for junk food, my mum responded "rehe mbeca?" or "do you have the money?" 

Except for Sundays. On Sundays, she'd respond "I'll think about it." 

Now this isn't a yes. It's barely even a maybe. What it is, is not no. And because she didn't say no, Sunday became the day we'd fixate on junk food. On this one day, we'd be able to make our food dreams come true. From pizzas and burgers in my younger years to a creamy alfredo or shawarma as I grew older. 

I miss being that excited about food, or a meal. I miss truly revelling in the taste of delicious food. I miss not worrying about where that food "went" or not chiding myself for wanting this food in the first place. I miss, just, being able to enjoy a meal and not worrying about the consequences.

But the more I think about it, the more I realise that what I truly miss is not being in control of my diet and, therefore, its' impact on my life. I miss not shouldering that burden. 

I miss simple Sunday afternoons.


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