Cookie Hips

 

 

I’m enjoying the holiday season. It’s been busy, but it’s also been fun and joyful. And it has been decadent.

 

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t yet be stressing over my seasonal indulgences. I’d be waddling my way through the next couple of weeks with a crumb-laden grin on my face. There’s still Christmas and New Year’s to get through, for cry-eye! As over-the-top affairs go, those two take the butter-cream-frosting cake.

 

But there’s been a slight hiccup here in my little corner of the world. Due to major screw-ups by The Man (and I say that with squinty eyes and a curled lip), I am now in need of a physical exam for bureaucracy and managerial purposes. Since this was sprung on me with no warning, I am more than a little concerned about the height/weight reporting. Y’all have got to know I’m swinging some cookie hips right now, and they do not line up with so-called charts of acceptability.

 

Could I be fitter? Of course. Could I be thinner? Absolutely. Has that been a recent goal? Not even a little bit.

 

Like most folks, I was looking to gobble up the rest of the holidays and then hit the New Year with a slant on working my way back to my pre-celebratory weight. Instead I now find myself trying to stretch vertically and shrink horizontally. In a matter of days. I think I just heard you laughing, “Good luck with that one.” I know, I know.

 

I happen to like carrots. And water. I guess – over the next couple of days – I’ll find out just how much I like them. Because for now, I’m on major calorie-restriction. Fingers crossed…

 

And for anyone wondering just how out-of-control I’ve gotten during the season of excess, allow me to share this little tidbit: Yesterday morning I was out walking along a major street. There were no other pedestrians in the vicinity. A city trash truck rolled past and the driver leaned out the window and whistled. He drove on and I kept walking. I can’t be too far-gone, or that dude wouldn’t have rolled down his window in the early morning cold.  Or maybe cookie hips are his thing. Either that or he was really into my monkey hat. Some dudes roll that way. Word.

Speak Your Mind

*