It's my middle name.
That's right...all this time, you thought I was just "Mama M.", no middle name, right? Well, I'm sorry to inform you that you were wrong.
Yes, my name is "Mama Gluttony M."...and I have the love handles and fluffy gut to prove it. As well as the indigestion. *burp*
(Courtesy Google Image, although I'm not sure how they got this image of me...)
It started with Christmas. No, scratch that...it started with Thanksgiving, slowly snowballing into this monster of a beast that has my stomach revolting in sooooo many ways. Trust me...YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW.
Just when I've stuffed myself full of thirds and fourths from supper, I loosen my pants, wipe my mouth, declare myself stuffed, clear my plate and head straight for the pantry to see what we have in there.
It's a sickness...remember the heart attack I had a few weeks ago? Yeah, it keeps happening! However, now, instead of freaking out and drawing up a will...I just burp, which opens up some space in my tummy, which I can fill up with more yummy food.
Heaven help me. I need someone to save me from my gluttony!! If I don't get help soon...I'm going to explode...and it ain't gonna be pretty.