My mother — whose never refused thirds on birthday cake — has begged me to join Weight Watchers with her, for years, and I always said no.I was happy to be husky, or vo-lup-tious, as I saw myself, in my dreams. Actually, I was in denial about my weight problem. I had not gotten over the fact that I can't eat vats of sweets anymore, like I could when I was younger. That's a major bummer about getting older, I tell ya. Also, I wasn't ready to give up my Hershey's special dark chocolate kisses or my Nestle's caramel-filled Treasures in my desk drawer — my stash that gave me such bliss and comfort. I looked forward to them every day.Well, this year mom's doctor told her that her weight was seriously threatening her health. So, reluctantly, to be a good daughter, I bought her, and I, a month-long membership for Christmas. Plus, I didn't know what else to buy her.
To be continued...