Last night, Bambi told me that not only am I getting fat, but I also dress like a fat person. I wasn’t sure what she meant, so I asked her to be more clear and in response she made fun of all the clothes I was wearing. I told her that I would try to dress nicer. Also, sometime in the near future I am also going to start running again to lose some of the extra weight. Bambi suggested I start waking up at five to go running in the morning. The thought of waking up at five in the morning all winter to go running fills me with dread, so much so that I probably won’t start my running program until it’s light enough to run home.
This morning I was putting on my clothes, trying to look nice, when Bambi struck again.
“You can’t wear that!”
“Why not, it has a collar.”
“It’s green.”
“So.”
“You’re wearing green pants.”
“It matches.”
“You look fat and ridiculous.”
I thought it would all blow over, but at breakfast, it came up again.
“This kid sure has a great sense of humor,” I told Bambi as I was playing with Hazel.
“She’s laughing at you.”
“No she’s not. She really likes me.”
“She thinks you look like a lieutenant colonel in some third world army.”
Hazel laughed and threw a cheerio at me.
“She says it looks like you should be marching alongside a bunch of skinny ak-47 wielding targets for insurgent firing squads.”
“But you said I’m fat.”
“Which is why you look like the lieutenant colonel, and not a grunt, now go change your outfit.”
For the record, I don’t wear outfits. Outfits are for dolls and clowns. Soldiers wear uniforms!
A few months ago there was a scarey looking man on the T, who befriended Bambi and I. Bambi wasn’t scared. She talked to him about what books to read kids. I was horrified, the guy seemed like a real whack job. He even had a beard. If that doesn’t scream psycho, I don’t know what does. After we got off the T, Bambi spoke of the man as if he were a new friend. I was still in too much a of a state of shock to say anything to the contrary. I let it pass, hoping as I did that we would never see that terrible man again.
This morning as I was walking to work, I noticed he was coming up behind me. My guess is that what he was doing could be considered jogging, although most joggers do not wear flannel shirts and sandals. Also, it should be noted, this man is fatter than me, and dresses (if you can believe it) more like a slob than me. I could hear him shuffling along behind me for a few blocks. A terrible fear spread out upon the sidewalk in front of me, as I knew in mere moments it would be stained with his horrible shadow. He eventually made his way past me, singing a half audible hymn to his delirium as he did. All I could think of was that phrase “and this too shall pass.” Thank GOD it did.
He probably reads this thing. I’m done for.
what lies you tell!