two bars of chocolate and a packet of crisps

A while ago I started a diet. I didn’t want to, but my waistline said otherwise. So I made a commitment to follow a well-known diet for a month. It went well and I pushed on for another month. But inevitably the other shoe dropped. Momma got bored of watching what she ate. Momma’s weight went the wrong way one week. Momma got depressed about it and let all hell break loose. Momma wanted chocolate, Momma got chocolate. Momma wanted peanuts, Momma got peanuts.

At the end of that week, Momma forced herself to face the NAKED TRUTH and stepped up on the scales to assess the damage. Momma set the conditions so that the best possible case scenario would be reflected on the scales: first thing in the morning, naked, and AFTER pee-pee. Momma exhaled and stood on the scales. No. Change. No change! I gorged myself for a week, and…de nada! Wow that feels good! So good I feel like grabbing Mottle’s hand and running dancing into the woods out back of Anatevka…wonder of wonder, miracle of miracles!

This week I am definitely going to be good. The little god of bathroom scales has granted me a second chance. A chance to put things right and make good with my life. I daren’t let him down because otherwise next week he will definitely shout at me.