There is a very good reason why I have two sets of scales in my bathroom. If I don’t get a number I like on the first set, I can always get a second opinion. And lately, I haven’t been happy with what either set is telling me.
The older I get the more I realize that scales are my enemy, and the one I hate most is in the exam room at my doctor’s office.
“This scale has to be wrong,” I told the nurse last year. She just smiled and wrote down the incorrect number anyway. This year, when I went in for my annual exam I heard her whisper to another nurse, “Watch this lady, she takes off her clothes before you weigh her.”
Okay, so I take my shoes and coat off and put my purse in a chair. Doesn’t everyone?
When I was a teenager, I could eat anything I wanted without gaining weight. Now if I even walk by a bakery, I gain three pounds. And I’ve learned I’m no good at dieting.
After two days on the Atkins diet I had “carb withdrawal” at the grocery store. I made it down aisle one, but by aisle two I was weak and trembling. Fearing I might pass out, I grabbed a package of Double Stuff Oreos, ripped it open, and by the time I reached the checkout line I had eaten six cookies, chugged a half pint of milk, and I was feeling almost normal again.
Remember the scene in the movie Gone With the Wind where Mammy is lacing Miss Scarlett’s corset? She says, “Miss Scarlett, you done had a baby. You ain’t neva’ gonna have no 16-inch waist again.”
I can’t imagine having a waist that small. A corset might not be a bad idea though. I could look thinner without having to diet. Of course, I probably wouldn’t be able to breathe or bend over very well, but hey, if I look 10 pounds thinner and I can still eat my sister-in-law’s cheesecake this Thanksgiving, it will be worth it.
Happy Thanksgiving from our house to yours!