Yes, Dearly Beloved, this is me. Or, was me, back in 1974. I did have a waist. A very small waist. SSS's mother, in whose home this picture was taken, used to tell me not to stick out my tongue, because people would think I was a zipper. She took this picture with her usual uncanny knack for photographing me with a mouthful of something. Anna Belle had a lot of other uncanny knacks, too, but it's not nice to speak ill of the dead.
My waist actually survived several pregnancies, and didn't really begin to disappear until I married Jim. Jim had a theory that any recipe could be vastly improved by the addition of cheese, sour cream, half and half, or all three. Slow thickening ensued.
Then, in 2005, I quit smoking, and the thickening sped up. Two years later, Jim shuffled off this mortal coil with the aid of a revolver, and it was bye bye waist after that. I didn't give a damn what I looked like, and chocolate ruled the realm.
I think I have finally burned out on chocolate. Until the Cadbury Eggs come out, anyway.
At this point, I don't like the way I look, but I'm too damn lazy to get off my duff and do anything about it.
Who knows what the future holds? Maybe I'll develop a long-term craving for salads and walking...