Lately with all the holidays
which involve joy and happiness,
I’ve become more
conscious of one of many ingredients
for that mirth—food.
No matter which holiday or
religion, food is the magnet which
draws us to sit-down to reconnect.
If you’re not involved in conversation
around the table or don’t want
to be, the solution is to dig into
what’s on your plate. Somehow,
I’ve managed to do it all: talk
and eat at the same time. Come
to think of it my whole family does
that. Maybe it’s genetic?
Anyhow, at the end of the year
I always manage to give one of
my new resolutions something to
start with: an expanded waist. I
think maybe it can become a math
equation; “mirth = girth.” January
2, I always say it’s time to
do something about the
tonnage and the waist
which comes along
with it. Why not
January 1 you
ask? Well, it
gives me a full
day to get over
the shock of
what’s happened.
To make matters
worse, yesterday,
I turned
on my computer
and there was a story
about what your waist
tells you about yourself.
Oy! Now my conscience
has a technological ally in
addition to everyone else
who’s nagging me. “Look
at you!” said in a
bright and chirpy way
has become, “Look
at you! What
happened?”
I can’t say
I didn’t enjoy
my sojourn
into the depths
of heftiness. So
what do I have to
do to help myself
out of this mess?
Years ago, women
wore girdles of
all kinds to help
camouflage a
little schmaltz
here and there.
Do you remember
the tortuous
rubber Playtex
girdles of yore? It had a million
little holes in it to let all the chubbiness
leak out. There were also
those lace up things that people
wore in the Victorian times which
may be making a comeback with
me very soon.
According to my computer
you’re supposed to take a lot of
time when you eat and should
chew slowly. When you take your
time, it allows the message to get
to your brain you’re full, and you’ll
stop eating. My brain as of late
must not be cooperating because
somehow the message is not getting
through. Is it possible that my
brain and I don’t speak the same
language?
Anyway, while I’m waiting could
I just have a small bite of your
cheesecake?
Haste Makes
WAIST
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