Sugar, spice (water, fat, muscles, bones) and everything nice.

What am I made of?

This morning I decided I really needed a body fat analyzing scale, and I needed it immediately. I wanted to know how much fat I'm toting about even more than I wanted clean underpants (today is laundry day). So I loaded up Sam and Tommy and went to Target, where I located a Taylor 5593 scale on clearance for only $15.00. "Bag it up, lady. I'm taking it home!" I announced to the check-out clerk. Only, the lady didn't hear me. I saw the sign that said she was hard of hearing after I'd already performed my short monologue. Then, there was an awkward silence. Well, awkward for me, anyway.

Maybe it was good she didn't hear me, because I wasn't being totally honest. Before I went home, I had to pick up the kids (it was a half day), and stop by In-n-out for some burgers, shakes and fries with Jake and Todd. I wanted to enjoy my greasy lunch in an Eden-like state of innocence, kind of like taking one last lap around the garden before before partaking of the fruit and stepping on the fat scale. After I got on, I'd KNOW. I'd be responsible for the knowledge. This analogy isn't working very well, is it? Maybe if the burger could be the fruit? Or maybe somehow I could incorporate the pink spread I put on my fries? No, no. It is getting worse...I'll stop.

So, back at home we unwrap our new toy and start her up. This scale is cheap entertainment, people. For 15 bucks my kids and I have spent a happy afternoon weighing, measuring, and trying to trick the scale by standing on one foot, alternately peeing and drinking (it also measures your percentage of water), and telling it we are 90 years old or extreme athletes. We also washed our feet and left them a little damp for potentially better results from the electrical impulse the Taylor 5593 shoots in one foot and out the other. It doesn't sound entirely safe, which is half the fun, of course. We are all thrill-seekers over here. Especially when it comes to our bathroom scales.

So, how did I do? How much of me is blubber? Well, I'll share a lot on my blog, but there are some things a lady needs to keep to herself, don't you think? To keep the bloggy mystery and romance alive? Yes, I think so. Let's just say I'm not at all horrified by the result. My first thought as I saw the result was "maybe I shoulda had the Double Double!," but then again, I've never been much of an overachiever. I'm 57 percent water, including those 2 diet cokes, which were totally necessary to wash down the fries. 57% sounds okay, I think. Or maybe I'm terribly dehydrated, and one of you will tell me. That would be humiliating.

Now, I think I'll make the kids all go clean their rooms so I can be alone with the new scale and try it out in the buff ! (All in the name of accuracy and scientific method. Directions say it works best when you're nudie).

I've said a bit too much? Yes, perhaps.

After that, though, I'll do some laundry. I promise I will.