Argument

I yelled at my scale this week.

"I hate you!" I said to the white scale, just lying there with a smug look on it's face.

"_" it said back.

"What is wrong with you?" I yelled, "I am working my butt off here. Can't you give me a little slack?"

"_" it murmured.

"What do you want from me? I'm exercising, doing what I'm supposed to. Sure, I had some chocolate...had a lot of chocolate...more than I should. Yes, I did have a glass of wine, but only once this week. I did extra sit ups! Doesn't that count for something" Arguing was getting me nowhere. I thought I'd try a different tactic.

"Look, seriously, can't we just be friends? You lie to me a little," I asked, hopefully, "and I'll try harder, K?"

"__"

"Well, now you're just being a hardass," I exploded. This was ticking me off. Up, down, up, down, this scale was all over the place. "Give me the number I want, or so help me God, I am chucking you out the window."

"___" it chuckled, just a little under it's breath. "____"

"I know, I know. I can't get the storm window off. And the screens don't come off on the other windows. I know!" I was getting annoyed. "The worst I could do would be to throw you in the trash. How about that?"

"^^^^" whimpering, the scale thought it through. "_"

"Fine. Be that way. I'm done with you. I'm not checking for at least three days. We'll see if you have straightened yourself out by then." That was it, no more crap from the scale.

"_" it blinked back, nonchalantly, mocking me.

"I'll be back tomorrow," caving, I picked it up and put it back in the closet.

"_" it answered.