farewell fat-busters

The other day Hubby pointed out that my fat-busting shoes really haven't busted any fat at all since I got them. Worried that I might dissolve into tears, he hastily added that my legs aren't really that much worse than many other women's legs, just that the fat-busting shoes make them look worse. He is the King of damning with faint praise.

So the fat-busters are on their way out. I'm having some black flip-flops made instead. I know it was wrong of me to succumb to spurious marketing claims like cellulite-zapping. I know that I should just have got normal shoes in the first place and eaten a few less chocolate-coated kiwis. Next week I shall just start going back to the tedium of the gym again, and forgo the pleasures of cocoa.

Why does it have to be this way?