The Dying Hours of January. Part 2: Always trust people who like big butts. They cannot lie.

I jump, confidently onto the scales for my final January weigh in. I’ve put on 2 kilos, I wail to partner, so loudly that the kids all come running in. Partner is laughing. I’m outraged – how can he be laughing. The scales have just torn my world apart. I’ve been denying myself bread and potatoes for four weeks. It must be the granola, I scream accusingly at daughter 1, who is lined up with her sisters at my bedroom door, eyeballing my naked misery. Or it could be the fact that dog 1’s paw was on the scales, partner is exploding with mirth.
‘Watch out boy she’ll chew you up’ the kids all chorus and then scarper.

I don’t know why you’re worried anyway, partner says, as only a man would, apparently big bums are still in for this year. Dog 1 is cocking his head to one side and has his worried face on. Be afraid, I thought to myself, be very afraid.

 

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