To my Preteen Daughter Advice from a Former Chubster Meatballs and Pitches I’m at a networking event. A slap-on-a-nametag-and-a-smile affair, where I belly up to the hors d’oeuvres to crunch away nerves, munch because it’s dinner time and graze because maybe someone will talk to me while I guard the food. I chew and cover my mouth while commending meatballs – “Try one; they’re really good,” or forecasting chicken skewers – “There’s a chance they’ll return…they disappeared pretty fast…” Suddenly, the action stops for a word from our sponsors. The sponsors are two health-related businesses, trainers offering to help us ‘slim down and tone up.’ I finish my meatball and reach for a carrot stick. I bet you could bounce broccoli spears from these people’s abs. One trainer touts a new, exclusive-to-the-area machine designed to ‘reduce the appearance of fat.’ In fairness, both business
When you look like your passport photo, it's time to go home. - Erma Bombeck