The Weighty Matter of Sin

I stood in the bathroom, taking deep breaths and mentally preparing myself for what was to come. It had been months since I'd last checked my weight, and I'll admit, I'd been avoiding this moment like a cat avoids bath time. But today was the day. I'd finally mustered enough courage to face the music—or, in this case, the numbers.

"It can't be that bad," I whispered, trying to channel positive thoughts. "I've been eating...somewhat sensibly. And I do walk every day. Well, almost every day."

Closing my eyes, I stepped onto the scale. The moment of truth had arrived. I counted to three, opened my eyes, and...promptly wished I hadn't.

"That can't be right!" I exclaimed, causing poor Tess to jump. "There must be something wrong with this scale. Perhaps it needs new batteries. Or maybe it's possessed!"