Thighs to Gym: F*ck Off!

Near the middle of my 27th year Mother Nature gave me a present: literally overnight I received new, larger thighs. It was like puberty but much more horrifying since I brought it on myself. Upon waking to this discovery I called my oldest and dearest friend Mollie to complain and she said that I had just experienced "the spread." This mysterious "spread" stranded me for about a month in skirts and dresses because none of my pants fit anymore. Whereas a health conscious person might say to themselves, "maybe I should cut back on alcohol, or sugar, or the fact that I eat pizza five times a week" I (being only concerned with fun and procrastination) took my new thighs out shopping. So as of two weeks ago my thighs and I said goodbye to the old and welcomed the new, not so tight pants. We have been happy together ever since. Hopefully Mother Nature will cut me some slack and give me at least two more years until I have to be a grown-up and join a gym and not eat spoonfuls of mayonnaise or whole sticks of butter with meals. At least that's what I'm telling the spread.