I like to think that I am a go-getter, intrinsically motivated, and bursting with a passion for life, but I know that I am lying to myself. I am actually bursting with a coffee bloat, I online shop so I do not have to go-get anything, and I am motivated purely off of my own hunger/hanger.
I get hangry. See hangry post for more info based on that, but I also eat as a reward and consolation for my days successes or failures. Food is the greatest reward there has ever been in my opinion, and this notion comes from a foundation set by my parents.
My family has always been very vocal at sporting events. My father was thrown out of high school girls basketball game for being too vocal. I was thrown out of the same game for hip checking the ref into the stands. He gave me four fouls in the first three minutes of the game! I had fouled out before, but even my coach started yelling at the ref saying that the calls were complete BS. I knew I would be taken out of the game, so I went out swinging my hips right into the ref. I nearly got suspended from the league, but turns out the ref was in-fact bought off by the team we were up against, so he was suspended by the championship game. IDIOT.
Anyways, back to the actual blog post. My parents liked to encourage me to succeed. I was excellent in basketball, averaging 20+ point a game. To be fair to the peasants I played against, I was 5’11” in the seventh grade. All I had to do was rebound. I also played football where, once again, I was bigger than everyone else, which was excellent as a tight end. Call me Lady Gronk. (But when high school came around and the boys finally grew I bowed up gracefully and joined Marching Band).
In order to make sure I would succeed and be the best I could be, my parents would bride me before every game… with food. The promise of Culver’s or Totino’s after the game had me salivating by the time I walked on to the court/field. I mean… come on… ice cream… pizza rolls…
I would also be starving before the game because I would not eat between lunch and game time which was sometimes at 7:00pm, so I would go from 11am to 7pm without food. Winning became my top priority, because I needed to eat. If I lost though, I would sit in the back of my parent’s car the whole way home bawling and hating everything/everyone because I was HANGRY. My parents would in fact feed me after, it was consolation food, but it was still food.
Now if I were having a mediocre game, my parents would whisper chant “CULVERS! CULVERS! CULVERS! CULVERS!” And when I say whisper, they just yelled in a whisper sounding voice. At first, I was embarrassed, but then the savage, hangry beast inside of me would just come out and seek to destroy all in the way of my future ice cream.
If the team did really well, everyone would go out for food afterwords. IT WAS GREAT!
Food is great.
I am going to go drool and watch Top Chef now.