Karen

3:20 p.m...

 

I pull up to Hoback VFD for my rack ‘o ribs, been waiting since last year. It’s mighty quiet for a fundraiser. Hours were supposedly 2-7...

 

Gentleman walks over to my car...I’ve got some bad news. What? We’re outta ribs. NO! Yes. No way, I’m from Texas and this is the closest thing to Texas. I’ve been waiting all year. I’m sorry, he tells me. Well, that isn’t good enough, I jokingly tell him. Are you preparing more? We prepared 1000 pounds last weekend. That wasn’t the question. Are you preparing more? Nope. DAGGUM IT, I wanted those RIBS. Settle down, Karen, he tells me, give me the dog before you get angry, Karen. I’m LMBO by now, Maggie’s grateful he and I have a sense of humor. No, you can’t have my dog, and I’m going to pull a uie and go home. Thank you for not throwing a fit...Karen. 

 

I didn’t need the damn ribs anyway. I weighed today for the first time in years. My fat pants are snug. After weighing, I don’t know how I even get my fats pants over my knees. I’m fortunate my weight gain is an equal opportunity distributer.

 

Thank you friends for not telling me I’m a cow. Moo. I would’ve trampled you. 

 

I need someone to hike with me, push me, someone who knows the trails, but is patient and silent. Shhhh. Silent company. Well, maybe talk a little, when I’m not panting, as in childbirth panting, because I’m so outta shape. 

 

It’s no wonder I’m winded easily, tired, stressed and anxious. I’m toting around a small child on my breast, hips, and thighs. 

 

I was hoping at this point in my life not to worry about weight. So much for that. 

 

Mama cow. 

 

I’ll fix it though. 

 

Dang it I’m mad at me. 

 

I wanted ribs.

 

Karen.