Home on the Ranch

"You're going to have a heart attack if you keep eating that," Aimee said during dinner the other night.

I would understand her concern if a 12-ounce prime rib wrapped in bacon sat on my dinner plate. Instead, Aimee was talking about the copious amount of Ranch dressing on my salad.

Since losing my sense of taste, I've eaten the same food as I did before. I still have cravings for Mexican food and Pizza. In fact, there's not much I don't eat now that I did before the head injury, except for meat-- I figure why kill an animal if I can't even taste the damn thing.

There are some foods, some ingredients, that I like more than ever. One of them being Ranch, lots of Ranch. And therein lies the reason for Aimee's concern for my arteries.

Her statement did make me wonder why my sudden affection for Ranch. It's not like it's some gourmet recipe that I'm addicted to. Shit, it's not like I would even know the difference if it was. I like it because it is viscous, smooth, and cold.

"Hey, if Ranch dressing kills me then I deserve to be dead," I told her. "Also, can't you just give me one thing? I mean, one food item, out of all the foods that I can no longer enjoy?"

As of now, I will continue to defend Ranch dressing to the death, even if it is the cause.