It’s my birthday. I’m forty-something. I’m fat. I’m single. I’m ok - wait, more than ok - I’m happy with that. In MY life, my happiness is what matters most, right? So how is it others think they have a right to ask my numbers? Even more, have an opinion on them? My fav of the answers society gives to that question: I’m concerned about your health. Really? Guess what. My doc says I’m healthy. He would probably know better than haters. Next reason? Hmm…it seems there is no just reason to ask. So next time someone asks my numbers, or asks yours, the answer is “None of your damn business!” Or, ooo, here’s a thought…push ‘em down, sit on ‘em, and let ‘em guess!!!