fictional science

Science tells us that 3,500 calories equals the equivalent of a pound of fat. If you eat that many in excess you gain, if you restrict your intake than you lose. A calorie, just in case you didn't know, is the amount of energy it takes to raise one gram of water one degree centigrade.

Pshaw. I can eat perfectly all week, and then one day consume five hundred extra calories and the next morning I've gained two pounds. Really, how can scientists measure energy and then apply it to food???

You can add and subtract those kilocalories all you want, I believe in the fat fairy.

She comes into your room while you are sleeping because she could sense that you ate an extra scoop of ice cream, and with a wave of her magic wand POOF you have two extra inches on your thighs.

Oh, she is good; she never strikes in the same way. One day you gain around the waist, the next your arms and butt. Or she will slowly sneak it onto your back for a couple months so you don't notice it right away and when you do you are in shock - where did that roll on my back come from?!? And when did I lose the ability to fit into my favorite pair of pants?!?

She herself is perfectly slim and trim, Nicole Kidman like. Svelte with perfect hair always dressed to the nines. And of course she lives off of deep fried foods, pastries and candy.

Just to shake things up, sometimes she vary how much weight you gain, regardless of the amount of calories you eat. This evil pixie takes satisfaction in keeping us juggling, walking that tightrope not knowing when or from where the next gale of wind will blow, threatening our balance and potentially throwing us into the empty depths, sending us from chubby to obese.

As much as you think I jest it is not so. I must prove the fat fairy exists. The rest of my life I can then devote to finding the spell or hex to keep her away. There must be an amulet or charm or something I can use.

Addendum: After much research, I have found the one thing that wards off this evil pixie.

Endorphins.

As you well know, there are but two ways to bathe in this chemical glory. The first being via exercise. As the fat fairy is a tricky minx, if she senses an increase in physical activity she makes one last ditch effort to toss on a couple of pounds to discourage your new workout routine and plunge you back into her evil claws.

The second way, of course, is sex. New relationships equal increased orgasms equal endorphins and the pounds just peel off. Need I point out that the weight gain attributed to age is actually a decline in endorphins? Just sayin.