This summer, since May specifically, I have been doing well with writing in my journal everyday (which is especially nice as Lauren Wenson and I are facilitating a journal writing workshop at the Easton Book Festival in October.

I hope that now that my journaling consistency has been restored that I can apply some of that same discipline to this space. we’ll see how that goes.

On Friday night, my daughter yells from the kitchen:
“Hey, Mom, you could totally eat 14 side orders of Brussel sprouts at Red Lobster, couldn’t you?”

I thought about it, and if a side of Brussel sprouts in like six to eight Brussels… I did some quick math. “14, no. But I could totally eat ten.”

“No way,” her boyfriend replies. “If you ate that many Brussel sprouts I would pay you $100. And I’d pay for the Brussel sprouts.”

“When are we going to Red Lobster?” I ask.

The answer was today. I did the research. One order of a premium side of Brussel sprouts is 380 calories. They are roasted, with soy ginger sauce and crispy onions. That’s a lot heavier than I was thinking. But a bet’s a bet.

I didn’t really have time to prepare. We left home Sunday morning around 11:45 a.m. when I started to get hungry. I had had a cup of coffee at 7 a.m. but nothing else. When we arrived at 12:15, we were the only people in Red Lobster, besides the one guy day drinking.

We do a brief explanation to the waiter. He promises to bring them with no crispy onion topping.

“You better eat, girl,” he tells me.

Game on. He returns with my first five orders, reporting that the chef wanted to put them all on one plate but he said they had to be on separate dishes.

I get a glass of water and only have a sip. First three bowls disappear in about fifteen minutes. Next two slow down, and I’m not enjoying the large, wet ones. I like the ones that look overcooked. The dry roasted leaves are easy to consume and taste better, especially as the big sprouts get cold.

I get up to use the bathroom. I’m definitely satiated, but I’m not disgustingly full. I order two more sides of Brussel sprouts.

When I get have way through the next platter, I realize how nonstandard some of the portions have been. And I’m getting really bored of chewing, and the flavors are getting monotonous. I don’t want to eat Brussel sprouts any more.

Eva is disappointed. “Oh, come on. You can’t stop because you’re bored. You’re not even full!”

“Do you know how hard it is to eat cold Brussel sprouts when you’re over them?”

She gets a brownie sundae and can’t finish it. So, after five-and-a-half plates of Brussel sprouts, I finish her brownie sundae, drink the rest of my water, and finally enjoy a Red Lobster cheddar biscuit.

Eva’s boyfriend put $60 on the table. my prorated winnings.

“That might be the dumbest thing I ever spent $300 on,” he said.

We all found that hard to believe.