Oh No! My Mom's Fat

I'd like to take a moment to blame the parties involved in my five pound weight gain this holiday season.

First, my dad, for filling the fridge with a fabulous local pale ale. It was too good to resist. I saw you drinking your light beer, while supplying me with the good stuff. How dare you. How much did you gain? Nothing? Hmmmmmm.

Secondly, I'd like to blame my mom for baking my favorite Cathedral Cookies. They're colored marshmallows mixed with nuts, and finished with a chocolaty edge that melts, melt, melts in your mouth. They look like the windows of a church and taste like heaven. Thank you mom, for my cathedral-sized butt.

Aunt Arctica, thanks for forcing me to eat at my favorite Thai and Italian restaurant, and making me share your Caramel Lattes, wine, and Ruffles with AE Party Dip. You are so mean, I can barely contain myself. I know your motives are purely selfish - to have a plus-sized sister, so that you can get all the cute guys.

And last, but not least, thank you Great-Grandma Gus for the butter-brickle and chocolate toffee. They are now conveniently stored in my mama-gut for safe-keeping, in case there is a famine and I'm forced to breastfeed my entire neighborhood. Atleast I will be able to survive the long post-nuclear holocaust.

And for everyone else who contributed, with sweets and treats, meals and beers, shame on you! Now I will actually have to exercise. Grrr.

I don't usually diet, but this is unbearable. I had five pounds to reach my pre-baby weight and now it's ten. At least I can find solace in the fact that it's not my fault. It's yours!