You know you shouldn’t. But its just so tempting. It’s after 9 PM, and you’re curled up watching Family Guy re-runs – Ribera Del Duero in hand. You remember that you’ve got a pint of the good stuff stashed away in the freezer…hidden nicely below the ice tray so that your wife doesn’t see it.
But aren’t you on a diet? The post-30 gut is getting harder to keep under wraps, even with repeated trips to the gym. You go for it, and the wife never finds out. Tomorrow night you know you’ll be right back at it again. You rationalize “it’s only ice cream, I mean our ancestors used to eat raw woolly mammoth…imagine how much cholesterol is in one of those!” One day the wife finds out, and you have entered a world of pain. A world of pain.
Well Greece, today is your day to sleep on the sofa.