The Grass is Always Greener When That’s all You Eat

My wife and I did the vegetarian thing for awhile. We are starting it up again. It wasn’t a resolution. In fact, we had steak for dinner last night, and frankly it was gross. We also had steak for dinner the night before and it had been fantastic. Apparently the seasoned steaks at Trader Joe’s are hit and miss.

We sat on the couch last night and watched a movie called Year of the Dog which is NOT the feel good, quirky comedy I had been led to believe, but rather a feel sad, quirky piece of left-wing propaganda.

Luckily, I live in the left-wing so I wasn’t as nauseated as say a group of young republicans watching Happy Feet, but still, it was clear that there was a message and if you didn’t agree with it you were a douche.

Somewhere in the middle of the movie we decided that we could give the vegetarian lifestyle another chance. The movie wants you to go vegan, so we met them partway.

In the words of my good friend Anthony, who went veggie the same time we did- the first time around, but actually stuck it out, eating an egg is the equivalent of swallowing (wink, wink, nudge, nudge). This is his argument for eating them.

Works for me.

The decision that we are faced with, again, is whether or not we should follow suit with our children. Should we force our views upon them? Arguments can be made for both sides.

On one hand, we are the parents and it is our house, so raising them as vegetarians would be easy enough. They can get their protein from peanut butter. The other thought is that we should let them develop their own sense of direction on something big enough to be considered a lifestyle. We don’t force God on them and I’m not sure we should force tofu. If I’m going to start forcing everything I stand for at them they’ll be drunk in an hour. We need to make decisions.

The biggest factor is that I don’t see going veggie as a forever thing. We did it for 6 months last time and I don’t know that I’ll even do it as long this time around. Basically, I’m not going to eat meat in my house or at a restaurant, but if you invite me to dinner and serve turkey, I’ll eat the damn thing. Then I’ll go in your closet and throw paint on your furs—you know, for balance.

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