Admitting I Have A Problem

Donovan here. You may think I haven't noticed all the snickers, the pinching, and the snide comments. OK, I get it. I'm fat. It hit me especially hard when I saw some pictures of myself in my bathing suit over the weekend.

So, in my first step toward admitting I have a problem, I've taken one of those photos (below) and marked some areas of improvement:



1: Cheeks: As far as a I know, there's no "Get-Rid-Of-Those-Fat-Cheeks-In-30-Minutes-A-Day" videos on the market, so this could be my "problem area." Let's move on.

2. Chin(s): This one will be hard to let go, as this is where I store my extra cheesy crackers. But I admit the multiple chins (four have been clearly identified, but only two come out during the day) is a bit unseemly. A few head rolls a day oughtta get it done.

3. Baby-boobs: Could one day turn into Man-boobs. Must go. 'Nuff said.

4. Big Ol' Belly: I've cultivated my belly ever since my first taste of mother's milk. It's big, it's round, and it loves to be tickled. Crunches might work for now, but I have an odd feeling this might return later in life.

5. Wrists: I'm hoping I'll grow out of the wrist fat first, as it restricts my ability to throw the overhand curveball.

Not seen in picture:
Thighs: Bigger around than my brother's (at least according to Dad, who measured).

Cankles: Like a baby elephant's... but I need the support, if you know what I mean (see 1-5 above).

So, that's it. Enjoy the jokes now, friends and family. When I hit the beach this summer, I'm going to be a little Schwarzenegger.

Hasta la vista, baby-boobs.