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October 20, 2009 / dcwisdom

I’ve Got to Lose Weight – Part II

I’ve Got to Lose Weight – Part II

Turning the corner of the house, I was caught like a deer in the headlights! With my gun, my mop, wearing granny panties and a sports bra, there I was in my neighbor’s truck lights shining on my sweaty, fleshy frame. I looked down at myself, thinking: “I’ve got to lose weight!”

Oh, my sinking ship! Could it get any worse! My cute, young, unwed neighbor had the look of shock on his face! What horrors he must have seen! I screamed at him, “Turn off those stupid lights and go back where you came from!”

He yelled back, “Debbie, are you all right? I heard the gun and the screams! Are you all right?”

“Of course, I aaaaaaaammm! Go hoooooooooome!” I screeched at the top of my lungs.

“I’m going to call the sheriff!” he hollered back. With that, he left.

“And don’t come back!” I railed to his retreating pick-up.

O, my ever lovin’ good Samaritan! ‘I’ve got to get into the house,’ I thought, ‘or hide in the woods. Better the house.’

With all the doors and windows closed and locked, I thought I remembered the bathroom window was unlocked. But, that window is…quite a bit…smaller…than…I…am… But, I made up my mind. I was going through that window come the sheriff or high water.

Leaning my mop against the side of the house and putting down my gun, I knew I had to run for help. That window was more than head high, and I needed some lift power. Running a distance in the dark to the tool shed, I located a stack of detergent buckets in the corner between the lawnmower and the tiller. Breathing hard and wrestling the machines out of the way, I grabbed the stack and wagged them like a pregnant woman back to the house, propped them under the window, and began my wobbly climb. I felt like I was on a high wire, those buckets straining to hold Ms. Doughboy. The adrenalin was pumping.

I don’t know how I pushed that window open and up, but, suddenly, it was up. I thrust in one arm, my head, and in went the other arm, and I began to inch and wiggle my little pudgy self into the window frame. Not far into the window, I realized what a stupid idea this was. I should have chosen the woods. If I could just push on the toilet tank with my arms and kick my legs really hard, maybe I could somehow propel myself into the room… *pushpullkickpushpullkickpushpullkick…*

This was not working. I was holy stuck! Half in, half out! Maybe it was comical, like a picture in a comic book – an over sized, granny-pantied butt protruding out the skinny window with little fat legs flailing in the air…

Just then, I heard my neighbor’s voice, and he was laughing. “Debbie, what are you doing? I brought the sheriff!”

Continued (when I get good and ready to tell you the last of the story…)

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