Yesterday Kipp and I took some of the Mexican Chicken Salad over to my mom’s place and had lunch with her. My mom said “Oh, it’s potato salad—with chicken, but no mustard.” Nope, no mustard. This didn’t prevent her from having a second helping.
We were chatting and I told my mom I hoped to go down to the Y later to do some exercise. She asked why I didn’t just exercise at home. I told her I never managed to raise my heart rate substantially or burn enough calories at home, since at the Y they had treadmills, bikes, elliptical trainers, classes, etc. and that I tried to burn 500 calories each day, even though some days I hated to waste the work.
“How long does it take you to burn 500 calories?” she asked.
“About 45 minutes” I said.
“How do you know you’ve burnt 500 calories?”
“Well, the machines tell you.”
She marveled, “They do? I didn’t know that.”
She thought for a moment and then said, in all seriousness, “Well, I probably ate 3000 calories for lunch here. Burning 500 wouldn’t help me much.”
3000 calories? “Mom,” I said, “There’s no way you just ate 3000 calories. Most normal people don’t eat 3000 calories in an entire day.”
“But I had two slices of toast.”
“Mom, two slices of toast—maybe 300 calories, at most; chicken salad—maybe 500 calories; a bit of ham on the side—200 calories; glass of milk—90 calories; carrot bar—150 calories, so yes, that was a substantial lunch, but about 1200 calories, not 3000.”
We have lots of discussions like this, wherein I try to combat my mom’s silly assumptions. She still cooks with Crisco and thinks children need white sugar for energy. Of course, she was the woman who thought you couldn’t get pregnant if you intended to go on the pill next week, even if you weren’t at the time of intercourse, and I have that bit of silliness to thank for my existence.
8:00:47 AM 
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