Man P. and I were at a birthday dinner party in a very nice restaurant. The menu promised us a ‘petit grand dessert’. It turned out to be an heavenly ecclectic mixture of crème brulée, hazelnut icecream, chocolate sauce and raspberry ice cream.
The other people at the table were watching me as I was sitting on my hands not to touch my plate. I felt their eyes fixed on my movements. Would she break down? Would she persevere? The minutes seemed to last for ages. I forced my mind to focus on a meditation mantra, while wearing my plastic smile and liistening to the conversation about my attempt to break off the behavor patterns of our sugarsweet life.
Finally, after eight long minutes, Man P. had finished his ‘small big dessert’, so I could move mine to him. As he’s also experiencing a daily sugar reduction at home, he didn’t mind having to finish a double portion. At least for him the petit grand dessert became a vraiment grand dessert.