Okay seriously, let me say this now: I love my little sister to death.
We've basically been best friends since she was born. When me and Alice were kids, I always looked out for her and we did almost everything together. Even after I went to private school, she waited up for me every Christmas break and every Summer. So yeah, we're pretty close. It really helps that she's probably the only one besides Dad who's never hassled me about my weight.
Ever since I got home though, we've been pretty much inseperable. I parked my fat ass on the couch on Night One and ordered four large pizzas for myself it's been nothing but Netflix marathons and a steady diet of your standard Millenial hiked up to about a billion with my favorite little sister, and it's pretty much been the best week of my life. You could call it making up for lost time, but the truth is that I'm lazy and deep down I know that Alice is too.
Mom might not like how much time she spends with me—something about me being a "bad influence"—but that didn't stop us from knocking out Dexter in a week.
But, as you can probably guess, a week of nothing but pizza and flash-frozen food products does an awful lot in the ways of a girls' waistline. Especially when it's in abundance. I'm wearing my fat pajamas, which I was pretty much exclusively wearing before I got home anyway since they were the only things that fit me comfortably starting two weeks ago.
My belly is warm and full as it sits lazily on top of my fat, bloated thighs. It's full of leftovers from last night, and breakfast from this morning. Dad made a run to Krispy Kreme for his two favorite girls, and I may or may not have taken the lion's share of the donuts. I burp, rubbing the flanks of my distended stomach with round, chubby hands in an attempt to ease the digestion of my sizeable snack.
I must look like a mess; half-dressed with my gut hanging out, no bra, too-tight pajama pants and my hair looking like a mop.
But hey, it's Summer, right?
"Hey Mel?" came the sweet voice of my little sister from the kitchen, "Did you eat all the donuts that Daddy brought us?"
"No." I burp unconvincingly into my hand, my cheeks inflating with the distinct scent of pepperoni and apple fritter, "Did you look in the box?"
Alice, my little sister, comes into the room holding the empty box. Her own jammies are looking pretty snug around that little potbelly she's been growing since Christmas. I guess maybe the poor thing does spend too much time around me. I know this might sound terrible, but ever since Alice started putting on weight we've never been closer. It kind of helps that she's been a total slug lately.
"Uh-huh." she hooked her eyebrow playfully and put her hand on her hip in a stealthy impression of Mom, "Forgive me if I don't exactly believe you."
"You're forgiven." we both laugh as she heads back into the kitchen...
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