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Enough Rope?

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

My friends all know I have a warped sense of humor and they are not offended by it. Therefore, I feel fairly safe in telling you about a touching family scene, a story about a ROPE.

We can choose how we react to disappointments. We can take every little thing so seriously that we upset and dislike ourselves. Or we can laugh about whatever it is sooner. We've all heard the statement, "We're going to laugh about this someday." Why not now?

We are all different. Tall, short, disciplined, easy-going, able to take off excess weight at varying speeds, we each have our own struggles and triumphs. We are all in this together, and none of us is perfect. One of my triumphs is that I can have fun with my family and we can kid around like we're doing a Saturday Night Live skit, without feelings getting hurt. We laugh at the situations we get into, not at our loved ones. We are, without question, on their side.

Experts say laughter helps us cope with stress and may even help us take off weight. I'm all for that. I do NOT, however, like self-deprecating fat jokes, the jolly fat person jokes, or the "Your mama is so fat" jokes. They are demeaning for all concerned.

Here's the story. One of the funniest members of the family is my youngest daughter, a beautiful young woman, who has an important stressful job with a big company. She has always had a flair for physical comedy and uses it as a stress-relieving tool, among family and friends.

Being tall, she can hide 20 extra pounds pretty well. Therefore, she puts it on, takes it off, puts it on,takes it off, over and over. She can be very disciplined and can make the first ten pounds vanish rather quickly. I used to be able to do that, too.

Well, she has just finished doing her ritual two weeks that usually takes off that first ten. She had refused to weigh herself until she had done two solid weeks of eating right and taking her cocker spaniel for so many walks that he's exhausted. That's another situation where people differ. I need to see the number, to help me take action. Others find the number discourages them. Again, we make choices.

Sunday was the big day. I didn't witness the actual weigh-in. I just heard about it. She stopped by, beaming with pride about completing her two-week plan. She said that , after looking at the scale, she was glad she hadn't gotten on it two weeks earlier. Her comment was something like "I'm pretty sure i was ten pounds bigger two weeks ago and if I had actually seen that number on a scale, I would have hung myself."

Ever the supportive mom, after a slight pause, as I sat grinning at her, the following rolled quietly off my tongue:"THAT WOULD TAKE QUITE A ROPE".

We both started laughing, and she climbed up on a chair, pretending to
hang herself. "That's going to be in my movie" she said. 'Can you just see it? I get so fat that I am miserably unhappy, I decide to end it all, I put my affairs in order, I write a loving "goodbye" note, I climb up on a chair, I carefully put the noose around my neck, I kick away the chair, and the da@m!!m rope breaks." Under her breath, there were numerous profane exclamations, for effect, as she climbed slowly down from the chair.

Needless to say, if we ever do have a family member we believe to be unhappy enough that professional help is needed, we won't laugh. In our situation, laughing about her ridiculous statement that she would have hung herself because of an over-reaction to a number on her scale, was therapeutic.
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