I have cultivated and grown what can only be described as a lard arse.
I am not looking for sympathy here in fact some days I am quite proud of it. My Lard arse is baby beautiful s lesser known uglier twin. I grew both baby beautiful and lard arse at the same time and whilst baby beautiful chose to exit my body over six months ago (although she does re attach four to five times a day to replenish herself) lard arse has suffered some anxiety and separation issues and has refused to leave.
I haven’t helped my little lard arse in his quest to leave my body. In fact on tough days I have comforted him with chocolate and lovely fattening pies; I have never gone easy on the portions. And on happy days we have celebrated with cheese and cake and we have always gone back for seconds. But quite frankly the rest of the family seem to be tiring of my little comfort baby and the vote has been taken that lard arse simply must leave.
Twin boy wants lard arse to detach himself so I can sit on his top bunk again without fear of the whole thing coming down like a stack of dominos. Twin girl wants me to ‘shrunk’ back down so I can wear skirts again not bin liners. He who helped create them is hoping I will get some more energy in the room where the magic happened (twice) – don’t anyone burst his bubble its good for him to have dreams. And baby beautiful loves me just the way I am but is jealous of all the attention I sometimes ply on her twin brother, lard arse.
So today it starts, I donned the lycra and pulled on my gloves. If lard arse isn’t going to simply drop off and be presented to me by a smiling doctor saying ‘congratulations a 28lb baby’ then I am going to have to run him off one step at a time.
I have set a goal, in 19 weeks I will stand at the start of the London Marathon, just me, without my lard arse.
Hopefully I will finish it in one piece!
Hopefully I will finish it!
Goodbye sweet lard arse; mummy will miss you….