Why do I even bother dieting?
I stare forlornly at the Thanksgiving Day banquet. There’s nothing even remotely healthy here. Marshmallows cover the yams. There is bacon in the green beans. Even the rolls are smothered in glistening butter.
“It’s all about portion control, dear,” says my mother as she heaps steaming mashed potatoes onto my plate.
How did I come out of that woman? My mother is no thicker than a green bean, while I could pass for the Stay Puft Marshmallow Giant.
Gravy drips off my plate.
Portion control my butt. I let out a sigh, then dive in.
Leave a Reply