Ever since I was a kid, I loved some good ol' fashioned competition. Being one of five kids just makes you that way. My sisters and brothers and I were always competing. For food, to get out of chores, everything. Also, from a young age, I had no qualms about making an a$$ out of myself in public. One year, we went to Disney World. Enter: The Perfect Storm.
I must have been about 7 years old at the time. We were going into one of those places where you do karaoke in front of a green screen. The future is NOW! None of us were really into the whole idea, so my parents said "Whoever does the best, most animated job can sit in the front seat on the way back to the hotel." So, the five of us kids put on tacky Hawaiian shirts and took our place in front of the screen, each elbowing the other out of the way.
The song "Kokomo" came on. We all started swaying back and forth, bobbing to the music, scream-singing to show how animated we were. Peter mimed the lyrics, Padrin and Prinna did moves like the "Plug your nose and pretend you're going under water." But Perek? He was only about 4 at the time and couldn't read the words on the scrolling screen. So, he just kind of stood there, trying.
I, on the other hand, theatrically threw my arms out at the camera, begging for love and attention and shotgun. I urrrrged the music on, desperately pleading with that person filming us to fall in love with my charisma. I was, in a word, unbeatable.
Except, apparently, I WAS beatable. By the "I can't read but I'm cute and I tried hard" kid on my left. I. Was. Crushed.
Now that we are adults, you would think that we have grown out of that competitive spirit. Not so, folks, not so. Earlier this year, some of the people in my family decided to try and shed some weight. Instead of encouraging each other, we decided to compete. For money. Lots of money.
Because nothing says "FAMILY" like cold hard cash.
Anyway, the competition started in like February. I was off to a quick start and was all "Yay! I'm healthy and eating right and getting out to the gym!" And then Geo moved back for the summer. HE was all "Yay! Let's only eat macaroni and pizza and go to movies instead of the gym!" In a word, the jerk sabotaged me.
I got an email from my sister today reminding everyone that there was only a month left. ONE MONTH to try and make my body forget the cushy love I've given it this summer, and instead try to make it crave water and gum and the gym, or whatever those nutball skinny people like.
I won't win. I really don't think it's possible. Part of me is like "Whatevs." And the other part of my is that 7-year-old, bowl-cut-having girl, reaching out and pleading to win. I guess I kind of owe it to her to at least TRY and get back on track.
Although, if Perek wins, I'm going to seriously freak the eff out.