Helplessly fat

All the time 😅 I can't reach down to tie my shoes, and picking anything off the ground in general is so hard. Reaching stuff on shelves is tough as I'm short, but then my belly will bump into counters/shelves, making it even harder to reach 😮‍💨 I don't pay much attention to my belly when I'm simply walking, but the lower it hangs, the more I feel it bumping against my thighs, and it does make it harder to walk up stairs as it bunches up between my waist and thighs 😅 There's a lot of places I don't fit - whenever I book a hotel, I try to find pictures of the shower, for example, as I've been to places where I simply couldn't squeeze into it. I avoid booths too - some still work, but a lot of the time, my belly gets in the way entirely 😅

I still prefer to sleep on my stomach, but it's definitely taking up a lot of space 🫣

Smaller? I don't think so... does it look smaller to you? 🤔

Well, this is the latest picture I've taken that include both those features 🫣😅

It's never been a goal of mine since I never started gaining on purpose 🤔 There's definitely scooters like that here, but I've never seen anyone need it due to their size/weight. As for walkers, I hope I won't need one, but who knows. I had a go at using my grandmother's recently, but it mostly made for a good belly holder 🙈

I suppose it's been a while - I'm too short to make it work with most sinks, but I found one while travelling that was a good height 😅

Well... yes. I think the worst place for that, that I've visited, has been the UK 😅 All the doors seem to open inwards, with barely any space between the toilet and door. The only ones I've struggled with in Sweden are tiny toilets where the sink sticks out so far I can't even squeeze past it 😬

That's when you try to get up and realize you can't. You probably had a bit of that realization when you sat down, feeling extra comfortable. You didn't realize how deep into the chair you are, only how it felt like a big, soft hug. You ignored any future where you had to get out of this chair. Your bladder was fine.

That was two hours ago. You sat in that chair while I brought you all kinds of drinks and snacks that I know trigger your "episodes." I paid attention at work and other times we've hung out and I know what sets off your tummy. So do you, but you ate them anyways. I think you knew what was coming. That, or you didn't care.

You finally panic and ask for help as your bladder starts screaming at you and your bowels begin singing their song. I pretend to help but really I'm not putting in as much effort to pull you up as I could.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you were so big you'd get stuck in this chair," I say. Maybe my acting is good, but I hope it's not. I'm pulling and you're slowly getting up. Three inches off the chair. Six now. We struggle to get you to past 8 when your bowels let out and you start wetting yourself. I keep you hovered over the chair. Pulling you up while you completely fill your pull-up.

Right when you sigh in relief as you finish, I let you go and you fall back into the chair in your freshly wet and messy underpants. Oh jeez I hope you didn't leak after such a huge flood. It's okay, accidents happen. I can help you clean up if you want, whenever you feel like it. No rush if you want to finish the movie.

The next time you come over, you notice the recliner still has the stain from your accident and leaky pull-up. I didn't even try to clean it.

I'm simply too fat and lazy to paint my belly, so here's a little edited Christmas belly for you 😌😂