Being Kendra_ Cribs, Cocktails, and Getting My Sexy Back - Kendra Wilkinson [41]
Hank saw how worked up I was getting about it and he began to understand. I’m so against it that any time I see anyone else texting and driving, I’ll yell at them too. I’ll roll down my window, I’ll honk, and I’ll scream out. I don’t care who’s watching me. We should all do this, because one day that person is going to be behind you and not looking. As moms, that’s our job!
Besides looking sexy, keeping things hot in bed, and making sure my man is satisfied, I’ve got a lot of other things that I need to do as a wife and a mom to make sure my family is running properly. I’ve also taken full control of the diet situation in our house. I do the shopping and most of the cooking, especially when it comes to what baby Hank eats. If Mom’s not doing her part from the grocery store to the dinner plate, then you end up with a household that’s unhealthy with poor eating habits. And if I hadn’t come into Hank’s life that’s exactly what would have happened.
Poor baby Hank would be eating chili cheese dogs for breakfast if Hank had his way. But luckily for the both of them, I stepped in and transformed Hank from a meat- and fried-foods-eating giant into a healthy, smart eater of all food groups. It can be done!
Hank is from New Mexico and he grew up eating unhealthily. A healthy choice to him would be a hamburger instead of a cheeseburger, although I’ve never even actually seen him make that choice. He’s not part of the Hollywood fraternity that obsesses over health. I don’t know if he even knew what vegan was before he moved here. He’s an athlete, so he knows the difference between a protein and a carbohydrate, but that’s about it. He was pretty big when I first met him, on the heavier side of 220 pounds. A really bulky, unhealthy, big-time eater.
His family loves to eat. They are naturally bigger people. Hank’s brother, his mom, and his dad all love their ribs, steaks, sausages, bacon, hot dogs, and French fries, and they just pour tons of sauces and gravy all over ribs, hamburgers, mashed potatoes. Basically they love anything with a sauce or cheese on it. And Hank was no different. During the first few months we were together, I watched him as he ate one hot dog, two hot dogs, then he was about to eat a third one, and I was like, “Are you serious? That’s not good.” I didn’t want to be around someone who eats like this, and while I consider Hank the perfect guy, if I could point out one flaw from back then it was his eating habits. It’s not healthy and it’s not attractive to me when someone gorges on things that just clog your arteries and fill your body with excess fat. Anyone who eats just to eat and gets so much satisfaction—and believe me, you should see how lost and in a daze Hank gets when he’s digging into a huge, dripping cheeseburger—is not doing the right thing for their body. It nauseated me to watch him eat, but I also felt like he treated food like an activity. He needed to learn about the pros and cons of food. It can be a beautiful thing, but it can also be a dangerous thing.
As he was eating that third hot dog, I took it out of his mouth, threw it down on the ground, and I screamed at him, “You don’t need that third hot dog! You don’t need it!” He got so mad at me, but as I was looking at him salivating at it, I swear he was going to pick it off the ground, scarf it, then go for numbers four and five. I firmly believe men would do that if we weren’t around to stop them. “What is the point of eating three hot dogs? You don’t need three hot dogs! You had two, two is a lot,” I said to him. I should have slapped that second one out of his hand too. If he didn’t know that three hot dogs were too many to eat in one sitting and that he ought to be eating fruit or some salad or veggies instead, then I was going to have to show him.