Dear stomach,
I am sorry for what I have made you. You were so perfect, not quite flat, with a cute little bump. I could lay a piece of paper across my hipbones and it would just skim you.
From now on, things will have to change. I have just bid on several beautiful dresses on eBay. They were made in the 1950s and so have twenty-six-inch waists.
You do not measure twenty-six inches. This is through no fault of your own, and I love you even when you bulge over my jeans. From now on I am going to do sit-ups. I know they are dull and maybe even painful for you, but they are sadly necessary. I will try to eat more lettuce and less cake. I hope you like lettuce.
For the good of the dresses,
The rest of me.
Monday, 9 February 2009
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