Some people accuse me of insulting myself when I say I’m fat. I’m not insulting myself; I’m describing myself. I don’t consider it an insult.

I would like to be less fat for several reasons:

  1. I can’t fit into the pants I bought when I was less fat, and I’m too cheap to buy new ones
  2. It’s hard to get up out of a deep chair
  3. Sometimes my feet hurt from squishing them with my rotundity
  4. If I fall, I fall HARD
  5. My husband can’t help me up–he’s strong, but he isn’t Superman

Still, there are benefits. For example, I was in the woods hunting for morel mushrooms and, when I came in, I found a baby tick on me. …A baby tick, in the sense that the tick was a baby one, not like dog tick–deer tick–baby tick. Anyway, there the poor little thing was, trying its best to dig in, but it just couldn’t get its choppers around my all-too-visible protective shield.

I’ve been hearing all this jibber-jabber this week about “brown fat”, and how it makes you LOSE weight, and I’m like, yeah, right. And HOW much money do you want me to wire you so you can send me 26 million dollars?

Tomorrow is my #4 daughter’s birthday. She’ll be (mumble mumble) years old. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HONEY! Poor thing, she has no fatulosity at all, but she has her own protection. Ticks bounce off her bones and sinews This is a girl who BENT the doctor’s needle when she went in for her booster shots just by flexing her muscle. And she sparkles in the sunlight, too, I kid you not.

So happy Friday, world, and send happy thoughts to help me finish my story before submissions are closed. And stop me before I Twitter again….


Writing prompt: What body image does your character have of him/herself? Is it reasonable or not? Is he/she trying to change the body or the image or not? If so, how’s that working out?