Let the Evidence Speak for Itself

My mother is worried.

She’s worried that I work too hard. This is true. She’s worried that I’m tired. True again. She’s worried that I’m losing weight. Let’s stop there. Keep in mind that I run a three-ring circus; sometimes a howling, whining, crying, complaining, hitting, scratching, tantrum-throwing one at that. Like most moms, I feel a bit run down at times. But I can assure you, I am not losing weight. In fact, my problem is quite the opposite. I present the following:
Exhibit A. Carb loading. We took The Hubs’ boss to a Manchurian style restaurant where they serve steamed or fried buns, tortillas, meat pies and vegetables.

Deliciousness on a plate. A flaky tortilla.

Tastes like a spring roll. Not deep fried, just plain fattening fried.

A fried meat pie.

The only non-fried item. Dumplings.

Since we’ve moved to Shanghai, I’ve eaten so many dumplings, I feel like I’m turning into one.
Exhibit B. I recently celebrated my birthday with noodles. (Look Mom, more carbs.) That evening, The Circus begged to go to Johnny Moo’s, a Johnny Rocket’s type of restaurant. We ate burgers, fries and shakes. Is your calorie counter off the charts yet?

Pretending to be healthy.

Pu and J surprised me with a slice of cheesecake. I’m going to hear it from my doctor sister because of my gall stones. Dr. D, I promise I only had one bite. It was my birthday, after all. But I drank two glasses of Cherry Coke. Because it’s not every day that you find Cherry Coke in China.

Birthday cheesecake at Johnny Moo's.

Exhibit C. Yesterday, the Branch President of our church branch invited us over for dinner. His wife made me a birthday cake. I also consumed my pulled pork sandwich, baked beans, potato salad, 2 banana chocolate chip muffins and cake and cobbler. Boy, I sound like a pig, right about now. What can I say? I try not to be a rude guest.

Birthday cake. Sugar + carbs = delicious.

Exhibit D. Like most women, I like to present my best self, which means posting flattering photos of myself, with a skinny face. Here is a round face photo, just for my mother. (Everyone else can just ignore this. Thanks.)

Five pounds of happiness.

Dear Mom,
Please stop worrying. I’ve put on five pounds in the last month. Time to hit the gym. (As soon as I get a membership.) Meanwhile, I am turning into a little dumpling. They’ll be rolling me onto the plane when I come visit.
Circus Mom

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