Just the other day I was flipping through the pile of junk mail that arrived at home and what should I come across but one of my favorite home catalogs. It is filled with beautiful bedding ensembles, breezy curtains, lovely linens.
And then… right there… in the smack-dab middle of the catalog was a section of weight loss equipment and tools.
I couldn’t get over the shock of seeing all the chrome and black equipment in the midst of the charming home decor. Seriously, it just doesn’t work. Doesn’t make sense. Has the whole world gone mad?
There was one entire section devoted to home scales. That had me laughing, I have to tell you.
The first one to make me giggle was a talking scale with a 440 pound capacity. I can only imagine the conversations I’d have with it.
“Hello, Scale, tell me something great today.”
“Sure, fatso, step right up.”
Yep, I do not need a sassy backtalking scale. I’ve already got a GPS system for that.
The next scale that was a bit much was one that had a 550 pound capacity and projected your weight in bright red laser numbers on the wall – no bending to read the number required. Are people insane? Who wants their weight number broadcast in 6 inch bright red illuminated numbers on the wall for any and all to see?
There was the scale that looked more like a slab of home siding that featured a hand-held LCD display. You step on the slab and hold the reader in your hand. That would be a great place for it to be. It makes throwing it across the room so much easier when you don’t like what it had to say.
The final scale that I found utterly ridiculous was one that had a 1,000 pound capacity. It looked like a platform for parking small vehicles or large bovine. If you want to run your kid’s 4-h Steer project across it for a quick weight check, no problem!
I think I’ll stick with my plain ol’ non-digital scale that is buried somewhere in the garage, deep enough that I’m not tempted to go dig it out at all.
Now if someone could invent a scale that would permanently stay on your ideal weight and would magically suck off the pounds until you actually hit it, I could go for that!
From She Who Thinks Ignorance is Bliss