Come Get Your Gold Star Sister and Offer Up a Testimony
Posted: Thursday, March 05, 2009
by John Brazell
The "sugar and spice" member of our household is losing it. She's wasting away and her days are numbered .
Really, she has joined many - including the Queen's second least favorite daughter-in-law - determined to chisel the chassis, kibosh the caboose and pare the pounds. The object is to count your excess away.
"Oh, look, these free-range rice cakes are only one-tenth of a point," as she punches the calculator. "I can have ten and all the water I want."
But the real success lies in the weekly weigh-in. They should change the name to "The Public Humiliation Diet: Let us scare the pudding off you." There's no pressure like stepping on the scale in front of your friends. And there's no greater shame than waddling back to your seat having failed to drop an ounce -- or worse yet, having gained one. "You're weak, Sister. Now go and sin no more!"
Peer pressure, like bad hair, doesn't ever go away.
Thursday is a day of fasting, of praying, of fretting, stewing, joggin' in place, nail biting and trekking back to the scales. That's me, she does more. This evening is weigh-in baby! It's either triumph or despair.
I pause here and ask the question that I've silently asked for years and to which I have no answer, "What happens to fat when you lose it ? Inert matter doesn't go away, so where is it lost? Does it turn to microscopic particles which we inhale like dust mites? Does McDonalds make burgers of it? Is it the secret ingredient in WD-40?
Of course I only relate to the concept of Weight Watchers' as a bystander emotionally drawn to the fight because it affects my entire life. I suppose a spouse can survive on popcorn and WW vegetable soup, but an occasional enchilada with guacamole would be nice. After a while you look for ways to beat the system, recognizing that ounces count. Losing weight is a family thing I keep telling myself.
On this weigh-in night when she was edgier than usual, I tossed up a suggestion, oh so gently, smiling as she readied to go.
"Dear, have you thought about wearing thinner clothing and taking off your shoes when you weigh?"
"We all do that (dummy). You establish your base weight in your coat and twelve-ounce dangly earrings and wear lighter clothing on subsequent weigh-ins."
"Aha," I thought to myself, "the competition is even fiercer than I imagined." Middle aged women are going at it for bragging rights too. How far does this go?
I try again, "Remember that underwear, at least, you know, some of it could add a few ounces. Ah . . . you do wear underwear, don't you? "
"Yes." < chuckle >
"Or ... is this weigh-in thing clothing optional?"
"I don't know." < chuckle >
"May I watch?" < laughter >
She returned from weigh-in a half pound less and happy. I didn't ask any questions. While she leaned on the counter and smiled, I poured her a glass of wine -- two-points of it, I think. Support is everything. We had won, at least for a week.
Post Script: She's been bulge-free now for two years running and looks and feels great. Goals were met, routines established and weigh-in is optional now. Count your calories and then your blessings. The sum of the parts will surprise you.
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Top-level comments on this article: (1 total)Great article, great humor. Thank you for writing it. Linda DLinda, thanks so much for dropping by. I'm delighted you enjoyed the story. We might as well laugh at ourselves, somebody is going to ...Keep your sense of humor and keep writing. It's becoming.Best, John
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