Friday, February 23, 2007
I had the WORST case of flu I’ve ever had this last couple weeks. I am just getting over it.
Of course, I got it from the school kids. E gave it to me, I gave it to Bigglest Boy, then Littlest Boy. Middlest Boy only got sniffles. Monsieur, damn him, didn’t get anything. He never gets sick. I was hating on him so badly last week, laying in bed, coughing up my lungs between runs for the bathroom. He was all chipper and concerned at the same time. I asked him why he never even got a hangnail, and he said, “Don’t you remember? I had a strained back just two weeks ago!”
Oh, right, I thought, I stand corrected.
Monsieur’s maternal grandfather is still alive at age 96. His maternal grandmother probably would have lived as long, but died from complications from a car accident that she was in at age 84.
“Why don’t you ever get sick?” I asked him.
“I’m not sure that I know,” he replied. “I eat well and I work on my feet every day or so.”
“How would you define ‘eating well’?” I asked.
“Well, about food choices, it’s pretty simple: Eat food. Don’t eat very much food. And don’t eat very much of your food as milk.”
“What do you mean by ‘eat food’?” I asked. “Everyone eats food.”
“Food,” he said, pulling up a chair and sitting down, “means things close to how they were when growing. Don’t cook the vegetables too much. Don’t refine the grains and sugars too much. For example, white flour and polished rice are not really food. They may taste good, but they’re not food. Not any more.”
“I pretty much eat what you eat,” I pointed out.
“Yes, you do, and you exercise often and you stay active,” he agreed.
“So why do I get sick and you don’t?” I whined.
“I honestly cannot tell you,” he admitted.
I grumbled, turning over and putting my face into the pillow.