There’s nothing worse than being called fat. I mean, I already know I’m pretty plump but when someone tries in the nicest way to say ‘hey mama… you are fat.’ And I don’t mean the PH…phat. Yup, taking it back a few years.
So let me start off by saying I had just woke up. I’m leisurely laying in my bed and Vincent tries to touch my heart to see if it’s still beating I guess.
“Hey mommy, I can’t feel your heart.” -Vincent
So I take his hand and put it on my
“Can you feel it now?” -me
“Yeah but it’s going really slow. Maybe you need to run or something or do some exercise? That will get your heart to pump faster.” -Vincent
“Well, that’s why we’re going to the Y. My therapist wants me to start working out.” -me
“Well, that’s a good idea because I’m afraid if you dont, you will die.” -Vincent
Now it’s fifteen minutes later and I get out of bed to help Joe with breakfast. I round the corner and there is Vincent with a huge smile on his face… “Mommy! You’re walking! That’s exercise! Good job!”
Has he never seen my fat as walk? If I could just walk down the stairs once a day and call it exercise, I would totally do it. God, could you image how skinny we would all be?
Moral of the story, just don’t praise your plumpy mom for walking down the stairs. It might be your last praise…
Until next time,
Are you going to eat that?