My aunt called me, meaning to call my mom. But it turned out, I was good enough. I got to hear all about their new dog, how fat my dad is (don’t get me started), how he needs to do their diet, how their daughter needs to do their diet, how it’s not a diet*, etc. I faked a 1 o’clock when the conversation turned, for some reason, to politics.
But I was glad to hear her say “Jooo-lie,” which was my Grandma Phillips’s pronunciation as well. Sadly, I say “Juh-lie.” Even in “Yankee Doodle Dandy,” I sing “born on the fourth of Juh-lie” even though obviously being born on the fourth of Jooo-lie would go better with being a “Doodle.”
*A diet is just what you eat. I am willing to believe that the part of their new way of eating that is “You can either stop eating carbs and see if that will lower your blood sugar or I’m going to start pumping you full of insulin” is a diet in that sense. The part where they’re required to drink two hundred ounces of liquid a day, but can do it in coffee if they so choose, is a fad diet, in the “let’s all lose a bunch of weight our bodies can’t possibly keep off long term” sense. So, I have my concerns.
Tiny Cat Pants 