It's the last day of the cruise.
I have eaten more that I have ever eaten in a week.
And even though I have worked out several times this week...I probably should never eat. Ever again.
Also, I'm tired. I haven't slept enough.
And sleep almost always takes precedence over food, in my perspective. So unless we've made specific plans, I've asked you to wake me, or the building's on fire, just let me be.
Mom doesn't abide by this rule. Ever. My sleepy protests that "you should just go get food yourself and let me sleep," have proven extremely ineffective.
So she decides, even though I stayed up last night packing, that I need to wake up 3 hours later and that I must stuff my face one last time before we leave the ship.
While this isn't a horrible idea, I couldn't shake myself from my sleepy zombie state.
As she eventually realized that an extra 30 minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt, she said, "I'll just bring you food. What do you want?"
"No. Just potatoes."
So I went back to sleep. Then I woke up 10 minutes later and realized something: if I really wanted potatoes I was going to have to get them myself.
I grabbed a plate, covered it with some vegetables, an egg, a roll.... And of course, potatoes.
I took my food back to the room. Mom said, 'Hey! I brought you food."
I said, "I know, but after you left I couldn't sleep."
I took a look at the plate. There was an egg, sliced melon, and...