My mother has just come home from work.
"So, can I tell you this crazy idea I have?"
"What?" She says, slightly distracted.
"I've decided that I want to run a marathon, I figure it will probably take me two years to do it."
"Why would I think that's crazy?"
"Because I'm fat!" I say.
There's silence from my mother, who has her back turned to me. I know she doesn't want to say, hmmm, yes, of course, you're fat. "Well, that doesn't mean anything."
"How many fat marathon runners do you know? None!" I'm excited like the very act of running twenty-six miles and then some will cure me of my body anxieties. "They all look like you."
No comments:
Post a Comment