That’s a wrap

Growing up during the 70's and 80's I watched my mom swing between the fat giggler machine to liquid diets. 

From Jane Fonda's workout to Sweatin' to the Oldies with Richard Simmons.   

Returning home from school one rainy afternoon I was looking forward to curling up with a good book. But instead, I was greeted with something that would now border on child abuse! 

Honey, I have a new fat melting trick I want to try on you, my dear sweet guinea pig! Whaaaaat, no, please I want to read my new book. 
Oh, come on, it will be fun she said. 
Why don't you try it on yourself  I asked.
It's a two person job and I need to try it out on someone else first before I try it on myself.  If it works on you, then you can try it on me! (I should have clued into the key word "if").

I was getting intrigued on how fat melts away. This sounded about as successful as the fat giggler, that never worked either.

I skeptically asked what was involved. She was sensing my weakness to provide my body as her science experiment. I had a hard time turning her down, she was always so much fun and we always ended up in great laughter from one thing or another. 

Deciding that if I didn't indulged her she may try this new potion on the family dog so I followed her instructions to meet her in the bathroom, disrobe down to my skivies and "prepare to be melted" she announced! This sounded dramatic. Okay I replied, a little skeptical, well, a lot skeptical. I obliged and did as told. 

Now the magic cream.

She proceeded to smear this tan colored, cinnamon smelling cold cream on all my exposed skin. Cold cream, it was. Now shivering and waiting for the next step she produces household Saran Wrap.

Ok, this is getting a little strange now. She then giggles and literally wraps my entire body much like a mummy in the Saran Wrap. 

Now I'm feeling claustrophobic but enjoying that I'm getting warmer.

You see, the magic happens when you sweat off the fat from the heat being produced and trapped in the wrap, she sounded so educated. I do think she got the recipe wrong, for the warmth I was enjoying in the first 5 minutes is now rapidly getting warmer. 

Ummmm mom, lets be done with this, my voice and body movements rapidly escalating.

Well you know what happens to Saran Wrap when you stick it to itself . The Saran that is now slimy and slippery with the cold cream concoction and the end now impossible to find. I'm hopping all around and yelling;

Get it off, it's burning, get it off!!!!! 

Trying her best to help me she finally turns the shower on cold and lifts me like a sausage into the shower. Remember, I am still wrapped and unable to bend my knees, arms or waist. 

She runs to the kitchen to get scissors to cut me free, however when she returns she is laughing so incredibly hard she doesn't have the dexterity to maneuver the scissors. Getting the accurate image here, she wasn't trying to burn me or drown me or dismember me but the entire thing went drastically wrong.

Finally she gathered herself enough to snip through the many layers of plastic to free my burning flesh. The intense smell of cinnamon was so strong we were sure our lungs and eyes were just as red as my now barbecued skin.

Laughter, in this case, really was the best medicine. Every time we remembered this event we laughed so hard we didn't even make a sound! 
She never got the exact recipe either so I never got to give her the same treatment.

Hmmmm....fun she said, remember?