Saturday Morning at the Farmers Market

Jack: Wow, this Farmers Market is so much better than the first one we went to this morning…

Anita: That was a garage sale, dumbass.

Jack: Wow, it’s like we’re in a real farm except the food is up higher so you don’t have to bend over and pick it up.

Anita: Are you gonna act like… ummm… yourself this morning?

Jack: I wonder if they have fresh overalls today…

Anita: Do you feel like some fresh squash for dinner?

Jack: Squash? That’s a terrible name. Squash needs a re-branding campaign.

Anita: Okay… what do you want to call it?

Jack: Hmmm… how about “butter”?

Anita: Don’t you think it would be confusing?

Jack: You never think any of my fantastic ideas are fantastic!

Anita: Besides there’s already butternut squash.

Jack: Butter and nuts… see that’s trying too hard. No food’s gonna succeed tying two distinct flavors like that.

Anita: What about peanut butter?

Jack: Hmmmmmm… you scored a point on that one. What’s the score now?

Anita: Seventy-five million to three.

Jack: I forget. Who’s winning?

At Home With Jack & Anita

For those just tuning in, Jack’s wife Anita recently suffered a detached retina in her only good eye and underwent emergency eye surgery. She’s currently wrapping up a weeklong recovery period where she must remain in bed on her side, completely blind. She’s also suffering the handicap of being married to Jack…


“Jack?” moaned Anita from the bed. “Can you get me some tea, please?”

“Just a minute,” I replied, tapping away on my laptop keyboard. “Let me finish this train of thought.”

“Last time you said that, I didn’t hear back from you for three hours.”

“What can I say?” I said, clacking away. “It was a long train.”

“Well,” sighed Anita. “What are you working on that’s so important?”

“Cough blog cough…”

“You realize that you don’t get paid for that thing, don’t you?” she asked.

“Well,” I replied defensively. “Not in money…”

“What do you get paid in?”

“Ummm… ‘not money’… and plenty of it.”

“I just don’t see what you get out of all the work you put into it…”

“Ouch!” I gasped.

“What’s wrong?”

“Owwwww…” I grimaced. “Bit my lip.”

“How’d you…” started Anita. “O h, I know… you were gonna say ‘Well, you can’t see anything right now’”.

“No I wasn’t,” I declared innocently. “I was gonna say… okay, yes I was.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t, Jack.”

“I know.”

“What do you get out of it, anyway?” she asked.

“I feel like I’m helping people, keeping their focus on their weight loss journey,” I replied. “Lightening their load a little. Providing some good, useful information.”

“Okay,” she said. “Read me what you wrote there.”

“Ummm,” I stammered. “Well, some posts are more informative than others.”

“What’s it called?” she demanded.

“Ummm… Jacksey Shore.”

“Oh no…” she sighed.

“By the way,” I said. “Could you start calling me The Sh*tuation from now on?”






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