Ham Mother and Cats It’s really disappointing when your mother, the person who’s supposed to care for you, is a complete and utter sack of lard. And while I’ve managed to escape her orbit thanks to college, I can’t take the two family cats with me. One of them, the older one, is either just overweight or at a normal weight (no scales in the house and I really cannot tell with cats) but the other, younger, one, is paunchy. If you look at her from the side her stomach drags down. She’s not as light on her feet as a cat her age should be. Why is this? Because my goddamn mother leaves out giant heaping bowls of dry food for the cats to munch from at their own will! And when I say “giant” I mean nine inches across in diameter, easy. Every single time I bring this up she whines about how she’s “too busy” and how the cats’ weight is “not an issue” and how I’m being “sizeist” and “fatphobic”. Goddamn right I am! I only get to come back home on special occasions and I want the cats to be around for as long as possible, but that won’t happen because you’re too lazy to keep half an eye on what they’re eating!