They're Always After Me Lucky Charms!

Returning home from a rather somber Weight Watcher's meeting last night, I was delighted and surprised to discover a giant bouquet of 24 red roses on my dining room table – an early anniversary gift from my father-in-law, along with a lovely sweet card from my mother-in-law.

I can honestly tell you that I've never been caught off guard by flowers like that in my life; such a sweet, simple gift that is felt so deeply. Many, many thanks to Grumpy!


It was exactly the kind of surprise I needed today, after going to what can only be described as The Bizarro Weight Watchers of '09.

Have I mentioned that our Weight Watcher's leader is 4'8" and weighs 75 pounds? God's honest truth. She is the tiniest woman I have seen. Hits me under my boobs and manages to make me feel like the largest, most awkward girl at the dance. Like I'm an ogre and she's a butterfly.

Oh, and she's the nicest person. So kind and sweet, always wanting to be helpful. And here I am, a grouchy ogre – call me Shrek – wanting to rip off her glimmering butterfly wings before crushing her underneath my giant green foot.

And her enthusiasm makes her even more intolerable. She gets really excited and says things like: "Good job! You lost a quarter of a pound this week!" Which makes me want to hammer her into the wall like a rusty nail and scream: "A quarter of a pound is a nothing! It's a fart! Don't congratulate me on farting, you dwarf."

But I don't say that because I'm trying so hard to not be an asshole. I want the world to see a kinder, gentler Momma Pug. One who is open to encouragement and praise, especially when they are offered up in such an unassuming, kind way.

Screaming kittens, do you have any idea how hard that is? I'm a lumbering, bulky girl and it's so hard to find motivation – or at the very least to just suppress hate – for someone that miniscule. Especially after the show she put on at the meeting this week.

Imagine my delight when I arrived at the Weight Watchers on Saint Patrick's Day to discover my redheaded midget leader wearing a green dress and a giant, oversized green leprechaun hat. When someone looks that ridiculous, they open themselves up for mocking. I mean, they're asking for it, right?

Oh sweet lord, the episode was only exacerbated by the fact she also had a lisp – one that is so pronounced that she almost sounds like Hellen Keller. So imagine THAT if you will: A tiny, redheaded woman, with a terrible lisp, dressed up like a leprechaun on St. Paddy's Day, trying to speak in an Irish accent. Our conversation went a little something like this:

Her: "Toff ov dah moornang to yah, lass."

Me: "Just shut up and weight me."

Kinder and gentler isn't working out so well for me, but I am grateful… I really do appreciate those roses.