As my owner trudged along the path of slight madness, I worked hard at storing up her comfort food. I gave her sugar cravings and made her pop sweeties in her mouth when she was sad or bad. After some time, I became a soft, pastry dough type ring around her tummy. I was able to bounce and fold, I could pop above her trousers and give the world a peek of my magnificence. I became, "The Muffin Top."
I could bounce and sway, depending on her activity. The bike was fun as I could use her thighs like a ping pong bat, and jiggle to my hearts content. I tried to stop her reaching her toe nails to make them pretty. I made her enjoy adult fun in the dark. I masqueraded as a pregnancy, and I laughed when people asked if she was in the family way. I was soft and creamy, and she could balance her cup or plate on me whilst sitting on the sofa. I felt important, and hoped to keep growing. I could cast a shadow of my own, I was immense and dominating. All clothing had to give me priority as I grew and grew. I loved the new me.
She tried to keep me under control. She hid me under black, loose clothing to disguise me, and sometimes forced me into tight, Lycra pants to try and stop my hideous bulging. I kept telling her that a size 16 was average. I kept showing her other, larger muffin tops to try and encourage her to keep feeding me. I was in control.
But then, a healthy witch cast a spell. She introduced a new mantra for her life and repeated:
I will eat and I will claim,
that healthy eating is my aim,
The muffin top shall be no more,
I shall banish it out of my door,
No more wobbles, no more fat,
No cup or plate where I am sat,
My shadow will be long and thin,
Unhealthy foods go in the bin,
Goodbye to muffin the chocolate slut,
The door of fatness will now be shut.
I began to shrink, and felt myself losing my grip. She dissolved me with her activity and fruit. Instead of bouncing, I mildly jiggled and was pulled inward by abdominal muscles, my greatest enemy. Trousers began to laugh at me as they had room to play, and I was disappearing. My once unfit, overeating friend had turned on me, and I was soon to be no more. I was withering, fading , melting out of existence.
RIP muffin top