Humor

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After decades of overindulgence, not to mention all those delicious Twinkies, I decided enough is enough. Actually, I don't want to hog all of the credit here. I believe in giving credit where credit is due and the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage deserves the credit in this department store.

I have a basic rule that has guided me all through my life of marital bliss. She who cooks the food I eat always, and I mean always, gets the last word.

It's not only a matter of courtesy - but survival, if you know what I mean. As far as I'm concerned, the whole thing came out of thin air.
We were sitting around the supper table when my wife made a casual remark. Every husband knows there is no such thing as a casual remark emulating from his dearly beloved.

You learn these things after 32 years of marital bliss. My wife simply remarked, "Honey, I think you need to go on a diet."

So, on a diet I did go. Hallelujah, pass the carrots.

The first thing I did was put into place a vigorous exercise program. Everyone knows how important exercise is to a weight loss program.

I'm proud to say, I developed this regime myself, but please, feel free to adopt my regime for your personal use. I'm happy to share.

Here it is: beating around the bush, climbing the wall, dragging my feet, making mountains out of molehills, pushing my luck, running down my friends and, the most important exercise, throwing my weight around.

You may be surprised, as I was, to learn all this exercise did not shed one pound from the body bountiful.

Undaunted, I kept to my regime with a determination known only to husbands who have been married more than 32 years. I orchestrated the exercise part and my good wife took charge of the nutritional branch of my diet.

One simple rule, concerning menu planning, has guided my companion in this important issue. If it looks good, smells good and tastes good, immediately eliminate it from your diet - it's poison.

The second rule is, if it tastes like styrofoam you can have as much of it as you want. My wife determined I would stick to a strict diet, even if it kills Yours Truly.

You have to admire her resolve. Within the first few weeks of dieting, the only thinning aspect of my body was my hair.

But who wants fat hair, anyway? My hair was so malnourished it could only get up as far as my ears and then went limp.

A few hairs managed to get as far as my eyebrows and then stopped. One advantage to thinning hair is, it saves time when I have to comb my hair, but then it takes longer to wash my face.

After several months (which seemed like years) of severe dieting, (and believe me when I say severe) I began to notice a difference when I stepped on the bathroom scales. For one, I could look down and actually see the scales.

The bathroom mirror began confirming my suspicions. I was shrinking. All told, I lost 70 pounds.

Actually, there is a sad side to this.

Originally, I intended to lose 70 pounds of ugly fat, but an examination in the mirror revealed only half of that was true.

The scales divulge one side of the matter but the mirror reveals something quite different. I can appreciate the sentiment behind the little poem: "Mirror, mirror on the wall, Tell me the biggest lie of all."

Why is it, when you want a mirror to lie, all it can do is tell the truth? Even though I realized, of course, I had lost a lot of weight, I did not appreciate just how much until a recent trip to the grocery store.

My wife sent me on an errand, which I dutifully obeyed. While on my errand something happened to defy all reason.

Walking down an aisle looking for an item, I noticed a lady staring up at some items on the top shelf. I didn't pay too much attention; I was focused on my shopping list.

When I got to her, she looked up at me and said, "Young man, would you reach that package for me on the top shelf?" I'm rather tall and can easily reach items on the top shelf.

For me, it was an easy reach, or so I thought. Just as I reached the item on the top shelf, I felt a cool breeze south of the Mason/Dixon line.
My pants, which had grown quite loose in recent weeks, dropped to the floor.

She screamed. I made like an egg and scrambled out of that store, in deep purple humiliation.

No matter how good something may or may not be, there are always consequences. It's living with these consequences that makes life the
adventurous and exciting thing it is.

The Apostle Paul understood the balanced life. He wrote to a young pastor the following instruction: "But refuse profane and old wives' fables, and exercise thyself rather unto godliness. For bodily exercise profiteth little: but godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come." (1 Timothy 4:7-8 KJV.)

The best daily exercise, I have found, is walking with the Lord.

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