Boy, you’re gonna carry that weight
Carry that weight a long time – the Beatles
In a stern voice, my family doctor put forth the idea that I drop a few pounds.
Well, maybe more that a few pounds, but I got the idea.
For me, staying away from pizzas represented a sacrifice that I was unwilling to embrace.
Until the good doctor maintained that my heath depended on losing some flab.
True, I had noticed that tying my shoes had become a chore, huffing to finish tying my laces.
Initially I blamed global warming for my weight issue.
You see, if this winter had produced more snowfall, I would have gotten more exercise from shoveling snow from my driveway and porch.
Instead, I was able to stay indoors, close to my couch and television.
To appease my doctor, I decided to outline incentives for dropping some poundage.
After losing a few pounds, my reward came in the form of a UPS package on my doorstep: a cool Cincinnati Reds sweatshirt.
My next goal is a DVD set with the “Taxi” series.
Seems proper that the goal after that should be a three-item pizza.
Perhaps incentive package needs work.