Dear Kid,

My arms got fat during the night. Specifically, my right arm got fat during the night.

Not a bug bite, not swollen, just fat.

My arms, which looked quasi-normal last night, look Quasimodo this morning.

Me: Do my arms look fat?
Dad: Huh?
Me: Do my arms look fat to you?
Dad (without looking up): You’re gorgeous
Me: Seriously, do my arms look fat to you?
Dad (sensing landmines): Gotta go walk the Puppy
Me: He was walked and fed an hour ago! Coward.
Dad (under his breath): You betcha
Me: My arm muscles are drooping and you’re evading the issue

The next sound was that of the door closing as he escaped the house.

I went back to the mirror. It lies all the time, but at least it doesn’t have the option of leaving the conversation.

Mirror, mirror on the wall…

I made a pump-your-bicep pose. All my fat cells applauded and then brought friends to watch the entertainment. My arms drooped 6 inches lower.

The mirror smirked. Showing great restraint, I did not throw a shoe at the mirror. I value my shoes too much. And I’m not sure my enormous arms would have let me.

I called my friend Bev.

Me: I think each of my arms gained 20 pounds overnight
Bev: I hate when that happens. I have racoons in my chimney

I have great friends.

Amazingly, my clothes fit fine. I glared at the mirror. It continued to smirk as I left the room.

You do not have a mirror that lies to you and smirks about it.

See how easy your life is?

Love, Mom