Peter’s Patter: Relatively speaking

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Being fat is all relative, especially when that relative is my mother.

There I was happily reading the paper when, from out of nowhere, she turned and pointed to my stomach and told me that I was piling on the pounds.

Well she never used those exact words as she prefers the direct approach. What she actually said was “Peter, you’re fat!”

Well I nearly spat out my chocolate eclair! I thought cheers mum, maybe it would help if you stopped offering me cakes every day and then going in a huff if I don’t eat them.

What exactly am I supposed to do when she tells me that she is a poor pensioner and cannot afford to waste her money on food that no-one eats?

Honestly she stands there with the last two doughnuts on a plate and the look on her face that tells you that you must eat them or never darken her door again.

You might be able to tell I am away on holiday just now and staying with my parents. Most holidays involve lying on a beach for hours on end, whereas I spend my time visiting relative after relative, but why is it that you have to bring cake every time you visit a relative?

I offered to bring bananas but apparently that was so stupid and cream scones won the battle of the bulge again.

Sometimes a cake seems the safer option. I turned up at my sister in law’s house and she refused to eat what we had brought as she had prepared something special.

So instead of cherry cake we were treated to an amoretto cream flan. At first glance it looked like something the clowns at the circus would smack each other in the face with.

My arteries were screaming at me not to eat it but when her husband told me she had been preparing it all morning I had no choice but to stuff it in my mouth.

Did I forget to mention her husband had a triple by-pass in February? She probably made him a welcome home flan when he came out of hospital! She wasn’t too happy when I suggested they buy a house nearer to the hospital so only has to pop across the road next time!

The good news is that I now have a plan to help cut the calories whilst I am away on holiday. From here on in I am only buying cakes from those giant superstores because they always have the cakes away at the furthest corner.

I have worked out that a brisk walk from the car park to the cakes will burn enough calories to cover actually eating them.

Flantastic!