our friend bertie-sue has recently moved house. she is known as bertie-sue to differentiate her from all the other sues in our lives. bertie is her little dog, who resembles a manic powderpuff but has the courage of a lion. he persists in trying to give alfie his babies, even though both of them have had their wedding tackle removed and the fact that he has to wait for alfie to lie down to make the attempt because of their disparity of size.

because bertie-sue has been de-cluttering there have been a few additions to our house. one was a large mirror which i have hung in the bedroom. this seemed like a good idea at the time. however, once i stood in front of it in a state of undress i realised my folly.

"this mirror makes me look huge!" i shrieked. the Ageing Rockstar looked up from his laptop. i waited a little while for him to say that the mirror had a dishonest streak, but there was silence.

"i don't look as fat in the mirror downstairs! do you think this mirror is faulty?" the Ageing Rockstar has an A level in physics so i always ask him about matters of a scientific nature. 

he finally plumped for "you could swap the mirrors over". this wasn't quite the "darling, i love your Reubenesque curves," reply that i was hoping for, but at least he did not resort to brutal honesty.

"do you think mirrors have different sort of settings in them? like the fairground ones?" i cried, in desperation.

"i think large mirrors just show more." he said, before returning to eBay and the wonderful world of guitars.

now that the Mirror of Shame was a fixture in the bedroom it became obvious that something would have to be done. no amount of sucking in of the stomach seemed to fool it. bertie-sue agreed to be my eating coach. every morning i receive a wonderful message on my phone with the days menu and motivational assistance along the lines of "NO SUGAR!" and "DRINK PLENTY OF WATER!" 

i have ordered some new bathroom scales too so a scientific approach can be taken with record keeping. and i do have a plan to take measurements at various points in my circumference to record on a chart, although i have yet to pluck up the courage.

yesterday the Ageing Rockstar and i went out for our weekly breakfast date. we tried a different venue this week. last week the Ageing Rockstar was perplexed by having what he described as a faulty sausage, as well as there being "too many fish in the marmalade". i would have thought any fish in the marmalade was too many, and i won't begin to venture into analysis of faulty sausages. 

i popped into the ladies and noticed that their mirror was much nicer than the one at home.

"they have the Mirror of Flattery here," i told the Ageing Rockstar.

"we'd better get one for at home," he said, before tucking into his full english breakfast. i had avocado and poached egg on toast, with a salad garnish and felt exceeding exceedingly virtuous... 


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