Throwing A Fit

As if my post smoking weight gain isn't enough to defeat my feelings of general superiority, yet another indignity confronts me while I pull on my pants.

Not much fits without straining at the seams lately. It seems that a mere 10, 12 or 20 pounds really do make a difference.

I choose my navy Nautica khakis. They're cut a little bigger which interestingly makes me feel a little less elephantine. They move. They breathe. And as I pull them up, it's gonna be a sunshine day after all!

I glance down as they come up and a little tag on the inside of the waist band commands my attention. Never noticed that before. What does it say in the tiny print? Squinting: 'Relax Fit'.

Not relaxed fit but Relax Fit. It's not like there wasn't room for the whole huge word 'Relaxed' on that tag. My pants are now taunting me:

Relax!Fit? No, you're fat.
Relax fatso, these'll fit. Relax!

I finish hoisting them up, fasten all the pullies and trusses around me to keep them in place. I hold my breath and make a plan.

Walk, that's what I'll do! I'm gonna walk and I'm not gonna stop until it's all gone. If it takes days, I'm gonna...Hey! What's this? A package of homemade fudge sent by mail from good old Mom? I almost forgive you for everything!!

After I eat this one little pound and a half of fudge, it's walking for me and nothing but! I'm just gonna...Relax.


DaDog said...

I have 12 non-smoker pounds as well. Perhaps if all of us who ahve quit smoking get together and cojoin our spare weight we can make a person who cleans for all of us?

Dale said...

Brilliant idea! And just think of all the free time we'll have to consider taking up smoking again!

Helena said...

Thanks admin..

Dale said...

Stop, oh yes, wait adminute Helena.