Step Away from the Salt (Or, Season as I Say, Not as I Do)

Image courtesy of TAPorto via Flickr

I broke one of my rules last night. When my dear husband reached for the salt for the fourth time during his meal, I opened my big mouth. When he reached for it the fifth time, he tried to distract me by pointing out something shiny. It didn’t work.

When I was in high school, at a friend’s house, carefully topping off plastic vodka bottles with water and duct-taping the necks in preparation for mailing them to myself at school (yeah, I did that), her step-father walked into the room, saw what we were doing, and walked out again.

I thought it was super-cool that we didn’t get in trouble. My friend told me it was because he was in AA, and one of the tenets was that you weren’t supposed to comment upon anybody else’s drinking.

I don’t know if that is true, and I don’t know if it should apply, even if it is true, to parents walking in on 15-year-olds prepping 10 gallons of vodka for a trip across state lines via the USPS.

I do think that one of the great dangers of being on a healthier eating/weight loss journey is becoming someone who offers unsolicited advice to others about their own eating/weight/health or anything else.

This danger is elevated for me because I am related to my mother, who passed on to me her genetic disposition for offering well-intentioned, but outrageous and often inappropriate, unsolicited advice. Comments like hey, I know someone who had breast reduction surgery if you’d like to talk to her about how much it changed her life. Something she said to someone at a cocktail party, someone who has never mentioned anything negative about her own breasts and is not related to her or even really a friend at all.

On top of it all, I’m still trying to get my sodium levels up, so am in the weird position of salting my chocolate protein shakes. Which, by the way, does not make them taste any better.

Dear husband exercises frequently, but I still worry about some of his unhealthy habits. Plus, everyone dies, and half the time, it is some wildly health marathon person or yoga nut.

Salting five times? While already eating restaurant food that, even if it didn’t taste salty, you know had to be salty, while drinking a frozen margarita rimmed with salt? It seemed a tad excessive, and I do really care for him. He’s smart, funny, a total rock, and he never complains about being on rat trap duty. (I handle buying, baiting, setting, and placement. He handles disposal. It is a totally fair division of labor.) I don’t want to go through all this trouble to get healthy and have him keel over from a heart attack.

How would you handle this? Have you had this happen with your spouse/significant other/close friends while you’ve been losing weight?

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