I’ve been on this kick where I’ve cut out all the processed junk—just meat, eggs, and fruit. I feel great, my energy is through the roof, and I honestly feel like I could fight a bear. But apparently, it looks "concerning" to the rest of the household.

This morning, I was in the kitchen at 7:00 AM searing a steak and eating some honey, and my dad just stood in the doorway with his coffee, watching me like I’d lost my mind.

He says, "Are we in a famine? Did the internet go out? You look like you're preparing for a long winter in the 1800s."

I tried to explain the whole "ancestral" thing ,how humans are meant to eat this way—but I was mid-bite, so I just gestured vaguely at my plate and muttered something about "micronutrients and primal energy."

He just shook his head, sighed, and said, "Look, if you want to be a blacksmith in the 14th century, that's fine. But your mother made pancakes. They’re fluffy. They have zero 'ancestral' value. But they’ll make you stop looking like you’re about to go work in a coal mine."

I told him I’d stick to my steak. He just shrugged, grabbed a pancake, and whispered, "Suit yourself. But when the Vikings come back, don't expect me to share my mead