Muscles
Hee. This is me and my brothers after church. Check out how cut we are. Army Brother (on the right) is showing me all these cool new push-ups to do. So in a couple of weeks I'll have arms just like Angela Bassett's.
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I'm Steph, a librarian and mom of 3 (not sure how that happened). Let's chat books, food, Sumptuous Literary Adaptations, poop, knitting and maybe some crazy Mormon Feminism.
4 comments:
Maybe it's just me, but I think you look a little obese in that picture. I'm just saying. Friends tell friends these things, you know.
Love, Phatty McPhatt
I for one am highly offended by cicada's observation that you are morbidly obese. As one who has struggled with weight problems all her life (or at least since BYU told me I'm obese), I don't think pointing out that a person is obese is the way to solve the problem. You will decide to get help when you look in the mirror and see yourself the way you truly are, and until then, comments about your obesity are only hurtful.
Nemesis, I want you to know that I see the inside of you, and it's beautiful.
I suppose, then, with all this fat talk, now would not be an appropriate time to admire either your or your brothers' muscles. Maybe I'll just go stare in my mirror until I come to grips with what the scale is telling me.
Enh. Forget the scales, Ambrosia. I've just decided that they're all wrong--ESPECIALLY my mother's, which is at least 6 pounds over and should be chucked through the bathroom skylight.
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