Outside The Box
I do not eat food from a box.
I do not like it quite a lot.
I will not eat from a box.
I will not eat it any way or any day.
I do not like food from a box.
I would not like food in a box here or there.
I would not like it anywhere.
I do not like food from a box.
Could you, would you from a car?
I could not, would not from a car.
Could you, would you from a couch?
I could not, would not from a couch.
Could you, would you from a restaurant?
I could not, would not from a restaurant.
I do not like food from a box.
Try it.
Try it you may.
Try it. Try it you may say.
If you let me be I will try it.
You will see.
See!
I do not like food from a box.
Over the course of my weight loss journey, plenty of folks have tried to sell dietary supplements and food products to me. Recently, I was even invited to sell MediFast. Ha. To each it’s own. But I just don’t buy into eating food from a box. Sure, it may be convenient, but I’m not looking for convenience. I want to prepare, cook, eat, and enjoy fresh, wholesome food. I love food too much to be a slave to packaged so-called food. I do not eat food from a box. I will not eat food from a box. I eat outside the box.
To join my eat outside the box movement, buy a copy of my cookbook “Bringing Cooking Back.”
Chrisetta Mosley
I am a product – and now a survivor – of childhood obesity. As a child, my family always told me that my extra weight was merely baby fat and I’d eventually grow out of it. I never did. Instead, my childhood is filled with memories of not being able to ride a bike, flattening its training wheels from being over the recommended weight, and avoiding P.E. classes by any means necessary. For years, I wore my fatness like a wounded soldier wears a Purple Heart - with pride. I owned the look. I dressed it up. I worked the room. There wasn't a skinny girl who intimidated me. I made sure my hair was laid just right. Nails polished. Outfits coordinated to the tee. Accessories to compliment every outfit. But everyone has a breaking point, and mine came in the spring of 2004 when I tipped the scale at nearly 400 pounds 388 to be exact. I was MISERABLE trapped inside of that body. I no longer wore my Purple Heart with pride. Rather, I was ashamed and frightened. Ashamed that I had allowed food to become my everything – frightened I would die because of it. Drastic times called for drastic measures... Today, I’m bound and determined to live a better, healthier, active lifestyle. I realize I’m no longer a passenger in my life, I’m the driver. I’m overcoming my inhibitions and I’m slowly but surely saying farewell to my old childhood nemesis, obesity. For once and for all, Farewell Fatso!