North Idaho Way : That’s not another person – that’s my behind!

I’ve been feeling like someone’s following me. I get a flash of something in my peripheral vision, but when I spin around no one’s there. And always that constant sensation that someone’s practically breathing down my neck. Then one morning it all became clear.

I staggered into the bathroom and stepped on the scale. As the numbers shot higher and higher, I fully expected to hear a boing! as a spring flew out the side. When the numbers finally settled on my actual weight, I gasped! No wonder I feel like I’m being followed. I grew a whole other person on my butt through the winter. Panic overcame me. My heart raced as I spit the mouthful of doughnut into the toilet. So it’s true. My dryer hasn’t been shrinking my clothes as I’ve suspected. The seats at the theater weren’t replaced by miniature ones to allow for more people.

How could this have happened? I’m a good person. Just because I love food, should I be punished; doomed to a lifetime of spring diets after hibernating in the house all winter? Every weight-loss program I’ve ever heard of flashed in my mind. Who should I call – Jenny? Weight Watchers? Blubber Busters? This was serious and I had to take action, fast.

I raced to Costco and picked up a case of chocolate-flavored, dietary milk shakes packed with 24 essential vitamins and minerals, and guaranteed to have me in a bikini by June. The only problem with that is every woman knows you can’t have chocolate without salty potato chips for a counter balance.

Next, I dragged out my beginners “Highland Dance” DVD, but the actual exercises would have to wait. Bending over to search for it in the cabinet beneath my television was workout enough for one day.

OK, the next step is obvious. I have to get to a tanning bed as soon as humanly possible. Everyone knows tanned fat looks better than white cellulite. At this point, I need every advantage I can get. I’ll get a haircut, whiten my teeth and buy new makeup to give the illusion of looking better, until I actually do. I’ll plan a vacation for this summer. Somewhere warm. Having a deadline of when I’ll be seen in summer clothes should keep me on my diet.

But, what if I cave in a weak moment? It would only take one potato chip to ruin my resolve. I was forced to develop the ultimate weight loss weapon. I waited until my husband was at work, the kids were in school and I locked every door and window in my house. I trudged into the bedroom as if facing a firing squad, and pulled out the old summer clothes that I haven’t fit into in years. That’s where I found my old bikini. Saying a prayer for courage, I put it on. The only sounds in the room were the ticking of the second hand on the clock, and threads snapping at the seams. Bracing myself, I stepped in front of the mirror.

When I came to, I avoided the mirror and set up the digital camera to take my own picture. It was the most horrifying experience of my life, taking front, side and rear view photos. I’ll keep these secret weapons in my dresser drawer so they don’t fall into the wrong hands. But, if I’m tempted to quit my diet, I’ll whip the photos out and force myself to stare at them for five full minutes. If that doesn’t keep me on track, nothing will.

I’ve done everything I can for now. I’ve set the plan into action and now it’s up to me to stay away from chips, chocolate bars and mashed potatoes and gravy. I need to faithfully leap around my living room to my “Highland Dance” DVD until every warble in my thighs has disappeared – or at least until whoever keeps following me is gone.