Recently, my grandma (yes, McDonald's Grandma) went to the doctor and got the following news:
You're too thin. I'm lifting all dietary restrictions. Eat full-fat everything. I want you to have gained 15 pounds when you come back for your appointment in two months.
Mom and I are... to say the least... jealous. But we're totally excited to live vicariously. I bought her a bag of Fun Size Snickers (especially Fun when you have medical permission to eat the whole damn bag in one sitting if you want). Mom immediately took her out for ice cream.
Grandma isn't so thrilled. She spent the whole weekend saying things like "I don't know why my doctor would even say that. It's not like I've been TRYING to lose weight. I just don't know what to do about this."
Clearly, she's bragging.
And she's not going hog-wild on Cheetos binges. She might not have even opened the Snickers bag.
Fucking annoying.
This diagnosis is totally wasted on her.
*I* could hit her goal inside a month! I'm an achiever like that.
Dammit.
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