Dear Scale,

I would like to take this time to thank you for having so much in common with a well known antagonist.

You have taunted me, pointed fingers at me, cackled at me and threatened to steal away my little dog. (OK maybe not that last one. But then again I don’t have a dog.)

But now, thanks to some splashy children and your inability to bear so much water weight due poor placement at our new house, you are dead.

So here we are Scale. You are refusing to turn on even though I didn’t drop a house on you. But lucky for me, I have a brain. I know when I’m eating healthy. Daily physical activity is second nature to me and my heart now. I can tell by the way my clothes fit and look if there’s a steady imbalance between the calories in and calories out equation. In fact, most mornings I could wake up and predict precisely what you were going to tell me. Any increase or decrease in your numbers never came as a surprise. I knew you that well scale!

Or maybe it’s more accurate to say I’ve come to know my body that well.

Scale, you were an incredible tool when I was learning how to nourish and fuel my body properly. You were a huge factor in learning the caloric mathematical formula that is weight loss. But now? I don’t need you. And you certainly never needed me. Now Scale, my munchkins will be forced to use the real stool when they stand at the bathroom sink to brush their teeth and make a huge mess.

I think I’m going to do me and the other math equation in my life (Checkbook) a big favor and not replace you. I’m no coward! I can live without your numbers! I’ve still got that giant, public, for-the-whole-world-to-see scale at Wegmans if I get really curious after all.

I can I tell if I’m at healthy weight without you Scale! I can see with my own two eyes that my children are robust and healthy – they don’t need you either. All you really are now is one more thing to pick up when I get out my broom. (Stop cackling Scale, you know I do sweep sometimes!)

In summary Scale, I have put you in the trash and will not be replacing you with another scale from the Wicked Target of the East. An offer of a free pair of sparkly red shoes with every scale purchase won’t convince me either, so don’t even try it.

It’s been real scale – thanks for everything. There’s no place for you in my home. See ya at the doctor’s office, or maybe at Wegmans if I ever get the courage.