Scale

It is one of those days. Rainy and gloomy. One sock in the living room and one in the bedroom. The sweatshirt that took fifteen minutes to pull off never left the bed. A couple cups of coffee and the half finished beer might get the body moving before night comes again.

Then put on the stretch pants.

Two days after Thanksgiving and unless there has to be another notch in the belt buckle, it is always the stretch pants.

With all the layers and comforters sitting next to the fire, no one is thinking about that bathing suit packed away that will never fit again. Was Thanksgiving developed so you have to buy new summer wear? Like hanging onto that surfboard, you’ll never ride it again.

Go stand on the scale. You’ve got one somewhere. Maybe it is under the bed or under the pile of dirty clothing dumped in the closet? Dust it off and stand on it. What do you see?

If you look down and don’t see your feet, you’ll have to be creative. If you step off to bend over to view the little window, you’ll be 50% off. If you use a mirror the numbers will be upside down and backwards.

That is because you set the “O” mark to -100. It won’t make you grow taller or put more hair on your head.

I’ve got two scales. Why? One foot on one and one foot on the other? Then add the numbers and that is your weight?

One has a mop sitting on it the other one sits on a shelf. A scale is like exercise equipment or a gym membership. You know if you use it you will feel and look better, but you never do.

Suppose you step on the scale after all that Turkey, stuffing, potatoes and pies and figure you can lose those extra pounds. Maybe taking a daily walk with your neighbor with her dogs or hide the remote so you have to struggle out of your beanbag couch and walk across the room to change the channel?

Then what are you going to do with all your ‘fat’ clothes?

Stay away from this devil machine. You should know by now that sitting down to tie your shoes or huffing and puffing to pick up the newspaper, you are not fit. The scale just gives you a score and the higher numbers are not better.

Just finished a pizza and my eyelids are falling. I’ve gotten too big for my britches. Move over sweatshirt.