Let the Fight of the Flab commence…

When I asked my 13 year old son if I’d put on a bit of weight lately (I know, I know. Why?) he remarked that if I was in this season’s Celebrity Jungle Get Me Out of Here, I’d be a cross between…Joe Bugner and ‘dainty’ scrubber, Kim. Cheers son. I should’ve known his take on my girth – my mum finds it entertaining to remind me regularly of the time when lovely son watched me take a shower (he was four) and remarked “Cor mum, you’ve got big, big shoulders…you are like George of the Jungle!”  He thought that was a compliment – shame I didn’t have said George’s six pack though. Still, I think I got off lightly – his nickname for his dad is The Grinch – due to his long, slim legs and rather rotund tum.

But ‘big, big shoulders’ aside (I was a competitive swimmer, they’re part of the package) I can’t deny the comparison to Kim ‘really lovey, yes lovey, I know lovey’  Woodburn isn’t far off the mark. So the time is nigh…

I’m on a christmas countdown to a better body…tomorrow. Today, I made the most of the roast potatoes and Yorkshire puddings (I made enough roast dinner for 5, accidently on purpose forgetting Stressed Husband wouldn’t be joining us as he’s still in Las Vegas) and there were no leftovers for my salivating doggy do dah – sorry Troy! And as I lick the gravy off my chin, I am making a vow to lose the (triple choc) muffin top that undulates above and around my waistband.

 But first, I need to get rid of any temptation – I’ll have to finish off that block of Vienneta in the freezer – don’t want it hanging around or anything, spoiling my diet. Ahem.

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