Lessons for life

Overweight Macclesfield parents will be forced to join their dumpy offspring in after-school PE classes, in a bid to tackle the swelling obesity crisis, says the Macclesfield Express.

Yes, the obesity issue again. I'm quite fond of this one because growing up, I had more in common with a globular pumpkin than a human child. I'd show you a photo, only my camera didn't have a panoramic lens setting back then. I did have some desire to exercise, I wasn't that fat and feckless. One day I made a snap decision to make more effort and started by sneakily hauling hefty family-size (or "fun ") bags of Walkers to my bedroom instead of the ordinary, puny packets. I watched my upper arms grow with pride - an emotion that peaked triumphantly when I was told I needed the "big girl's" blood pressure cuff at my doctor's surgery. "Big girls" being giant female pandas, presumably. "Chip on my shoulder"? That's a double-chocolate chip you're looking at. And hey. I like it there.

This health scheme is a ten-week fitness programme for families who have a child who is classed as overweight or obese in school health checks. Of course the logic is simple: there's a direct correlation between overweight parents and their "larger-than-life" children. "Out-of-shape mums and dads will be invited to take part in a range of physical activities that could include skipping, running and jumping – as well as learning about diet and nutrition." "Invited"? If my plump mother was invited to get her pulse racing and her pits sweaty at her discretion, she'd politely decline due to a "family function" (chocolate fondue party for one). If kids are forced into publicly humiliating themselves while attempting shoulder-stands and cartwheels, why shouldn't the parents who made them lardy in the first place?

This article is bringing back all kinds of painful PE memories - one of which involved my year 5 PE teacher making the whole class sit and stare at the one pathetic pupil who couldn't manage a forward roll (...me, obviously). "A forward roll? Is that like a sausage roll? Or more like a mini-roll?" I'd lived in the world, you see? So there I was, head pushed on the floor, between my wobbly thighs. And there I was 15 minutes later, tears soaking my eyebrows and the crash mat. What did my mum say when I got home? She wasn't about to write a strongly-worded letter to the cruel tyrant of a teacher. Instead she stroked me on the back, lovingly, and told me she was surprised I found sport so difficult when she remembers herself excelling in it so effortlessly at school.

This course of action by the Central and Eastern Cheshire Primary Trust is partly prompted by new government guidelines for schools - instructing them to send letters home to parents of overweight pupils - "believing too many do not realise their children have a weight problem."

Speaking of "letters", in secondary school, my mother used to write letters to my PE teachers every Thursday (dictated by yours truly) - reporting that some horrendous ailment had befallen me just in time for PE. I was thus under no circumstances to "do games". It was actually usually one ailment - period pain - most weeks. I soon realised that the female PE teachers felt little sympathy for my womanly woes. They often made me change for games anyway (wearing lost property PE kit that I could just about yank over my embarrassing bulges). Desperate, one day I hopefully approached the male PE teachers and was at last victorious! One mention of "ladies bits" and "periods" and they were awkwardly clearing their throats to drown out my pained tones. The head of PE was a man, so which fearless females would take him on? Sure it was a sad state of affairs for feminism, but I was free. Burn my training bra? I'd have sooner burned my plimsolls.

My mother bailed me out of PE so many times and the least I would do for her is get her out of similar scrapes. But if we were both coerced into PE lessons (along with my dad, who can't write comprehensible English anyway), who would write us sick notes? Grandparents? Am I to understand that those without living grandparents are to be so savagely disadvantaged in this way? Will nursing homes around the country commence staff dictation services so grandparents can save their descendants (and any other non-relatives who are prepared to pay their way) from suffering in such an unspeakable manner?

"Gillian is unable to swim today after suffering some unusual HRT side-effects - aged 66, she's started ovulating again and consequently is menstruating. Chloe is also feeling unwell. She badly sprained her upper arm while continuously lifting the contents of a family-size potato-based snack to her mouth. They'll be out of action for approximately ten weeks."