Biscuit Poisoning

Thanks to a bona fide doctor in the house, I have discovered the source for my belly fat.

That’s right, I’ve been biscuit poisoned. And not by any biscuit, the kind that come in cans.

Dr. B is from the south, where most genteel women (and men) know how to make a biscuit or two. When we lived in Arkansas, even my mother, an Asian military bride, got into the fine art of biscuit making. She also made cornbread and grits but that’s another gastronomical story.

Me, I don’t really care for breads of any kind. It took me two decades to eat dinner rolls at restaurants. Before I started eating dinner rolls in restaurants, they would just sit there in handsome baskets, making lovely props while I picked at my food. (One eats like a bird while dating, but makes up for it after the nuptials.) I’ve just recently started to like dinner rolls, especially the flavored chi-chi ones, which may also be a small part of why the belly fat.

When we do have biscuits at the Demonic house, I opt for the canned variety. However, canned biscuits are not without their inherent dangers.

I was scared by an exploding can of biscuits once. It was early in our marriage. To free the biscuits, one must place the end of a spoon on the edge of the can and press, but the ensuing blast is sometimes jarring. This is a hazard associated with biscuits past their expiration date.

Since the biscuit explosion (where I almost lost an eye), whenever we have biscuits (usually with soup or stew), I must enlist Mr. D’s help to open the can. Similarly, I cannot open a bottle of champagne. I was knocked to near unconsciousness by an errant cork.

He thinks this is silly. Of course, Mr. D must also open jars for me. Carpal tunnel. I can barely open the car door.

Come to think of it, I can barely open a bag of kettle corn. 😛

When Mr. D is gone — meaning dead because he’s not ditching me now — I’ll probably lose weight because I won’t be able to free food from its containers.

Thank goodness for summer. The likelihood of biscuit ingestion goes way down with warm weather. I should use this time to thin down for winter’s upcoming biscuit poisoning.

7 Responses

  1. I love biscuits and dinner rolls and bread sticks. Needless to say, I’m not very skinny. It has been so long that I can hardly remember my skinny days.

  2. I still have my skinny clothes. I’m holding out for a makedown. My grandmother was skinny until the day she died. Of course, she didn’t eat much, and at the end with her Alzheimer’s she took most of the food and hid it under her pillow.

    I wonder if hiding biscuits under my pillow will help?


  3. Well Pande here in the South if a woman makes good biscuits a fellow’ll overlook a few extra helpings.

    Now if he’s to go and get the ‘Dunlop disease’ he might not fare so well, though. (Belly done lopped over his belt.)

    Dr. B

  4. I gave up all the skinny clothes a while back. They were so far out of date they’re almost back in.

  5. I should have saved my high school clothes, they’re in now and my daughter would not be buying new. I can’t fit into them though… I can’t even fit into my wedding dress and I saved it for her and she’s an Amazon so she can’t wear it either.

  6. I would shoot my daughter for wearing what I wore in high school!

  7. “I’ll probably lose weight because I won’t be able to free food from its containers.”


    As for biscuits and bread being a belly’s downfall: oh yes. Rather. That, and peanut M&Ms. I’m addicted.

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