Chomp: (v) to munch or chew vigorously
Sometimes I think my body is working really hard to kill me–but other times I feel a sympathetic pang streaming from my consciousness,
wishing me well. I don’t know if either is true or if one is actually more prevalent than the other.
But as I get older, I don’t “chomp” as much. It’s been years since I’ve used the phrase “chow down.”
Especially over the past week, recovering from a stomach virus, I realize that my internal organs have very little interest in food. It is my brain that is completely obsessed by the notion.
So when sickness comes along and makes the brain calm down, the stomach has the opportunity to be very picky about what comes through the door. Over the past couple of days, I feel like there’s a bouncer stationed at the end of my “food tube,” kicking out the riff-raff.
First and foremost, I find myself chewing slower, giving my belly the chance to adjust to the idea that soon there will be a visitor.
Now, I do realize that within a few days I will be completely well and the brain will once again insist on more chomping. But for this moment, it is very intriguing, and also cuts the calories.
Could I ever learn to not be a chomper? A fascinating question.
Perhaps I could learn to eat like a kid. They take a bite or two, leave the table and run, and come back and take another bite or two. Not much chomping there.
So I guess the best thing I can say is, I’m kind of chomping at the bit to find out if I can chomp a little less at the table.