Evil Potato Chips and a Diabetes Head

by Shirley Bahlmann
A partially eaten bag of potato chips can be perfectly harmless, unless a hungry dieter dips her hand in for "just one." Well, just one in a bag that's already been picked over will most likely be broken, so it doesn't count. Then you eat just two, then a few more partial chips, and then you get down to crumbs, and how bad can a few potato chip crumbs be? Happy tongue, grumpy waistline.
My hair is extremely resistant to curling. Extremely. It has to be layered in hairspray and held prisoner in curlers at least overnight for it to conform to curls in the morning before making a break for straight at night.
But one day I wanted curly hair, so with a clear evening, I rolled the resistant locks in my pink bendy-tube curlers. THEN I got a phone call "Shirley, we're having our choir dessert night." DESSERT? Well, I had to have some sweet to counterbalance the chips. So I went, curlers and all. My friend, Sarah, came in her pajama bottoms, but she said I had her beat with the curlers.
THEN my 9-year-old wanted to go to the store for apple juice. I thought of a couple of other things I needed, too, so there was nothing for it but to go into the store. I wrapped my head in a scarf and trotted on in to get my grub. When we came out, I was feeling pleased that no one had mentioned my lumpy head. So I said to Michael, "Does this scarf look okay?"
He tilted his head up at me, took a somber look, and said, "It looks like you have diabetes."
So much for pulling off a great disguise! (But I did like that apple juice.)

If you are a big girl...

by Shirley Bahlmann
If you are a big girl, or even if you aren't, this YouTube clip is fun and kicky and makes you want to dance. (If by some chance the link below doesn't work, click on the picture of the boy with the apple, or just copy and paste, okay? Okay!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xC8WRlb_q0g

Losing It

by Shirley Bahlmann
I don't know what possessed me. I must have been as full as a stuffed turkey when I challenged my husband, Bob, to a weight loss contest.
"Let's see who can lose 20 pounds first," I said.
Bob raised one eyebrow. "What does the winner get?"
A cream filled Boston Cream pie came to mind, but before the words reached my mouth, I realized it was a counter-productive reward. Hm. What would be worth losing weight for?
Then it hit me. "Whoever wins gets to pick the tile for our kitchen when we remodel," I said.
I think Bob nodded. Maybe he lowered his head to his hand, but I turned away so fast I can't be sure.
We started out on even ground. But three days ago, I caught Bob cheating. Can you believe it? He caught some kind of germ that made him so sick he couldn't keep anything down for two days.
Today, he announced cheerfully, "I lost eight pounds."
Maybe I'll tell him he needs to lose 28 pounds to my 20. It's only fair.