You know the old saying: Just when you think things couldn't get much worse your mother appears and throws you a Fat Intervention? Well, they have these sayings for a reason. They really know what they're talking about. Much like how it always rains after you wash your car, the members of my intervention committee decided now to be the perfect time to throttle me about my weight. The irony is ripe with irony.
In the end (at least from what I can tell after all the kicking subsided) my slew of parting gifts include: a new gym membership, a personal trainer (4x/week), a dietitian, and some lipo a few months down the line. And I'm to do it all with a smile. No buts, young lady.
Hooray.
4 comments:
she's just concerned.. mothers are like that. just like how they used to spit on a hanky and then rub dirt off of your face with it, because mom-spit is cleaner than the spaghetti sauce on your chin. yeah.. that's it.
MEH!
Oh moms and their meddling. Maybe your personal trainer is really hot. Then you could pinch his butt all workout session long.
As long as drinking is not cut out from your new regimen, you should be ok.
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