Oh, sad, sad entry. My heart aches for my whole fat family. I will be relieved the next time all my brothers and sisters get together. I won’t be the fattest person there. Oh! Not to be the fattest! It will be tragic for whoever takes my place, but let them have it. They can grab the reins right out of my hands! I’ve held those dirty, rotten reins long enough. I’m tired of being ashamed of my looks and my out-of-control behavior.
Each time we have a family gathering, I swear to myself, “Rosemary, you will not eat one sweet thing while you are there. Do you hear me, girl?” But as soon as I see all the good food and get one whiff of chocolate whatever-it-may-be, my resolve melts like a cube of butter in a microwave.
Have you ever watched a cube of butter melt in a microwave? Nothing happens for a couple of turns around the carousel. Then suddenly, without warning, one side burps out the liquid gold, and the whole cube caves in, melting within seconds. Exactly like my resolve. Even I don’t realize how weakened it has become until it suddenly collapses, and I nonchalantly take my first bite. I really do act nonchalant. I would be mortified to let anyone know I was ready to melt the food down and shoot it up, trembling, mouth watering in anticipation of the ecstasy ahead. However, if you eat nonchalantly through a whole evening, you would be amazed how much you can consume.
I hate being at those family gatherings, where everyone can see how patently out of control I am. I’m shamed by the volumes I consume in front of everyone, and also by my appearance before I eat one calorie. I can never express how horrible it is to sit around with overweight people and look like you belong, but feel as though you have no business being there. Surely, I haven’t let my life get as out of control as these fat people surrounding me. Yet I’m the fattest of all!
Now, at last, I’m on the brink of escaping. I’m excited to hold my head high again, hold my head high and my tummy in. Ah, success! I can smell it not too far down the road. When I’ve lost fifty pounds, I’m sure at least one person in my family will be motivated to start dieting. It will be too horrible for any of them to actually be “fatter than Rosemary.” How I would love to be the catalyst for my whole family to get their weight under control. We are an unusually talented and funny group of siblings. We could form our own comedy club based on the jokes that flow from a single family gathering. Of course, half of those jokes are about our fat experiences and problems. Laughing about our weight problems helps us all to relax—and eat one more cookie!