A/N: So, seeing as how I just got finished writing a multi-chapter story that featured an underdeveloped blonde-haired character, I figured that it's about that time that I write another multi-chapter story that featured an underdeveloped blonde-haired character.

Now, you may be thinking that Rita Loud doesn't really count as "underdeveloped" but I disagree. We're this far into the series and we haven't had an episode that's about Rita. Sure, I suppose you could count "A Novel Idea" but really, it's more about Lincoln than her. Also, there doesn't seem to be much to her character other than...well, "level-headed mother". It's quite a shame.

I'm not going to promise that this story will be a good attempt at adding more to her but it's still an attempt, nonetheless.

Needless to say, Saturdays in the Loud house were notorious for bringing out the apex of chaos, unpredictability, and noise pollution that the family of thirteen, mostly the children, were responsible for inspiring.

Today, at least for the time being, the frenetic mayhem was contained to either two places: the backyard or upstairs.

For the past two hours, one Rita Loud had commandeered the entire living room area for herself and had the wisdom to demand, ahead of time, that no one get in the way while she do so.

The reason? Working out to her heart's content.

Though, if any of Rita's limbs were sentient, able to voice their subjective opinion on their current state of being, they'd assert that they were most certainly not content.

Rita had worked herself to the bone, putting her body through its paces faster and harder than she had ever been used to. The last five-minute lightning round of chasse left the matriarch of the Loud house panting and sprawled on the floor in front of the TV. Though her body ached with exhaustion and her pores were spurting beads of sweat by the second, she summoned the strength to crane her neck up just in time to watch the sprightly, young Jazzercise instructor wave goodbye to the audience and congratulating her viewers for another hard day's work. With that, the hour-long Jazzercise DVD ended, leaving the TV screen a blank void.

With another day of aerobic dance exercising in the books, Rita, slight aches and all, pushed herself off the floor and made her way to the corner of the room to retrieve the yoga mat that she had used for her yoga routine earlier. Though she was prideful with how she hadn't given up at any time of her routine, her perseverance left a price to pay: sweaty workout clothes that clung to her body like a second skin and appendages that pulsed and throbbed with dull pangs of pain, the sensation exacerbated by each step she took and especially exacerbated when she bent over to scoop up the yoga mat.

Rita hissed and groaned as she felt her lower spine twist. She never had it this bad before until she decided to kick up the intensity of her exercising about a week ago when she realized that a certain weight scale had clocked in her last reading at 152 pounds. That didn't sit well with her at all given how she had managed to keep herself within the range of 140 – 145 pounds, an acceptable boundary if she said so herself.

How she had gotten herself seven pounds over that limit escaped her but that didn't matter to her now. What mattered was that when she waltzed into her bedroom, triumphant after a seventh consecutive day of Spartan-like exertion, and the scale revealed a slimmed-down weight, it would all be worth it.

Now, it was time for the moment of truth.

Rita halted her steps when the rank stench of sweat and body odor wafted into her nostrils and made her dry-heave.

Okay, shower first and then the moment of truth.

'Much better,' Rita thought in a daze as she emerged from out of the bathroom, clad in her bathrobe as steam poured out from behind her and momentarily blanketed her underneath.

Not only did she smell better (lavender and vanilla suited her much better than "eau de sueur") but the warm, relaxing water had done wonders for her body; she no longer felt like her joints were loaded and packed with tension, a condition she'd need to clean up the various messes her kids were sure to leave behind after an entire day of roughhousing and horseplay.

With her dirty clothes and yoga mat tucked underneath her arm, Rita walked down the hallway (which was full of children who were wise enough to freeze in their tracks upon seeing their mother), moseyed down the stairs, and at last, approached her bedroom door.

Expecting nothing peculiar, Rita flung the door open…

Only to be greeted by a lasso that quickly wrapped around her middle and tugged her forcibly forward. She let out a surprised yelp as she was dragged from the doorway, dropping her yoga mat and clothes in the process. Her yanking ended just as abruptly as it started as she softly collided into the embrace of a familiar but very oddly dressed figure.

"Well, howdy there, stranger."

Having found her bearings, Rita looked up and saw who it was that initiated that little stunt. There, holding onto the end of the lasso, that entrapped her, with one arm and wrapping the other arm around her waist was none other than Lynn Sr., who was looking down at her with mischief in his eyes and a smirk that matched the glint just as well.

The Old Western vernacular and twang in which he had just addressed her made sense now that she got a good look at what he was wearing; a standard cowboy costume that included a hat that partially covered his eyes from the slanted brim.

Rita smirked back at him. Apparently, she caught her husband in the middle of one of his… playful moods.

"The mayor's heard talk of a rustler that's been swipin' our cattle 'round when nightfall comes creepin' in," Lynn Sr. said, failing to hide the flirty huskiness in his voice, "and you look mighty suspicious. I'mma 'fraid I'll hafta ta bring ya down to the station fer some questionin'."

Shimming herself out the lasso, Rita leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. She would've gone with the act but right now, she wanted to quickly weigh herself before doing much of anything else.

"Alrighty, cowboy," Rita said, "I'll play along. But first, let me go and-"

"Wait a minute."

Rita took heed at Lynn Sr.'s tone, which had dropped back to his normal one. What really threw her for a loop was the trace of…betrayal she picked up in his statement.

Silently looking to him for an explanation, she was greeted with Lynn Sr. folding his arms in a pout and asking, "You've been at it with yoga again, haven't you?"

Rita followed where his eyes were currently trained and saw her yoga mat and clothes laid out in a heap on the floor.

She turned around and looked at Lynn Sr. confusedly, not understanding what the big deal was. Although it was true that she never exactly indulged anyone about the specifics of her exercise routine, she figured that out of all people, her husband would have an inkling about what she'd be up to without her having to fill in the blanks for him.

"Well, yoga and Jazzercise. Y'know, the usual," Rita shrugged. "Why do you ask and more importantly, why do you sound disappointed?"

Lynn Sr.'s pout was magnified with an indignant "hmph".

"Because if you'd have told me, I would've joined you! We could've been yoga buddies again!"

Rita shook her head and sighed exasperatedly. Hadn't she already explained why being "yoga buddies" with him was the absolute last thing that either of them needed?

"Oh no, not after last time. We've been through this, Lynn. It's not happening again," Rita said crossly, glaring at the whining man in front of her.

"Oh, come on, Rita! It was just one time! It's not like it would've happened again! I would've been more prepared and-"

"Nuh-uh. Out of the question. There is no way I'm letting you do yoga again. Last time you tried, you got stuck in the downward dog position and guess who had to drive you down to the chiropractor's office and wait for five hours for you to get readjusted?"

Lynn Sr. feebly offered a shy grin as he pointed at his irritated wife and answered, "You?"

"Yeah. Me."

Firmly rooted in conviction, Rita moved away from him to seek what she had been trying to get at earlier. She walked over to her side of the bed, kneeled on the floor, and pulled out her trusty talking electronic scale. Before she got up off the floor to use it, she could feel the displeasure practically radiating from Lynn Sr. and was compelled to address it with a point that she felt was necessary to make.

"Besides, I've been exercising at an advanced stage for the past week. There's no way you would've been able to keep up with me."

"Advanced?" Lynn Sr. asked, fully perplexed. "You've always been fine at intermediate. What motivated you to go with the extra hustle?"

Rita huffed. "For whatever reason, I've been gaining weight lately. No matter how much I've been exercising, the weight just keeps on coming. And before you ask, my diet's been healthy, too. Sure, I'll help myself to the occasional donut or two but it's not like I'm downing entire gallons of ice cream in one sitting."

Immediately, a thought crossed her mind, a recent memory that betrayed the integrity of her declaration of measured, cautious eating. She chuckled weakly before she amended herself.

"Okay, except for the season finale of Dream Boat a month ago.I needed something to cope with for all those sad moments and that tub of chocolate ice cream was calling to me."

She shook the fleeting sense of defeat out of her head before it could take root. It had only been a one-time moment of gluttonous indulgence! That was all! What was a half-gallon of ice cream in the face of all those squat thrusts and calf raises?!

As she placed the scale by her feet, aiming to step on it and unveil the fruits of her labor, the answer to her posed question rang in her head like a bell, 'Nothing, that's what!'

"But that's all going to change as of now," Rita declared in a promise. "Just you wait, Lynn. Once I step on this scale, it'll show all my hard work paying off."

With nothing left to do but get on with the grand reveal, Rita confidently stepped on the scale, ready to hear the announcement of her new weight. She could hear it now, the proclamation that she now weighed in at a modest-

"155 pounds."

Rita blinked. Did…did she hear that right?

…

…

…

Nah, must've been her ears playing tricks on her. Or heck, maybe the scale was just messing with her! Yeah! That had to be it!

"That's funny. I could've sworn that this scale said that I weighed 155 pounds. Who knew scales could have such a sense of humor, am I right?" Rita said to Lynn Sr., who was anxiously observing his wife from a considerably safe distance.

Deciding to go at it again, Rita stepped off the scale and clambered back on, a little hastier this time around. This time, she actually looked at the scale to see the number that flashed on the rectangular screen in coincidence with the number that she was about to hear.

Sure enough, the scale pronounced, "155 pounds."

Rita's mouth fell open in disbelief. If this scale was to be believed, she had not only made no headway in losing weight but she had done the opposite and gained three pounds!

Sweat began to cake into her brow and her heart thumped erratically in her chest as denial began seeping into her.

Maybe if she…if she stepped on it in a different way, it would spell out her proper weight.

Of course! Why didn't she think of that before?!

Getting off once more, Rita tried to step onto the machine from the right side instead of from behind it like she had done before. That would do the trick.

"155 pounds."

O…kay? Maybe from the left side?

"155 pounds."

The front?

"155 pounds."

Diagonally?!

"155 pou-"

"That does it!"

Picking up the scale and lifting it over her head, her face etched in a furious glower all the while, Rita was ready to smash the infernal, downright fibbing scale onto the ground…

But a quick rescue via lasso swiped the device out of her grip. Knowing what had happened, Rita spun and made a dive for Lynn Sr., who was trying his best to hold the scale over his head as Rita tried in vain to jump up and grab it from him.

"Let me at it! Let me at it!" she hissed, her arms desperately dangling upwards at the cause of her distress.

"Eeeeeeeasy, honey," Lynn Sr. said soothingly. "Just take a deep breath and-"

Without warning, Rita made one last huge leap and snatched the scale from Lynn Sr., nearly knocking him down in the process.

'At last!' Rita declared as her fingers firmly gripped the cool metal of the scale.

This would show that stupid scale! This would show anything that dared question her hard work! She didn't work her butt off to slide in the red and she would take control of her destiny…

By destroying an unbiased, objective reflection of the cold hard facts.

Her madness was infested by that moment of clarity and with a heaving sigh, she dropped the scale down, ignoring the awkward way it bounced on the floor as it threatened to crack from the impact.

"What's the point, Lynn? It's not the scale..."

Rita sluggishly shuffled over to her bed and flopped on it on her side. She felt herself sinking into the mattress around the same time she felt her heart sink from the overbearing disappointment that infected her from her soles to her crown.

"It's me. I'm the fatty who can't lose weight."

Moved by empathy and the belief that she was being too hard on herself, Lynn Sr. walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.

He looked down at his wife and smiled, "Rita, come on. Don't be so hard on yourself. You look good for a woman of your age. Scratch that, you look good for a woman of any age. So what if you're a couple of pounds on the heavier side? You shouldn't let that stop you from feeling beautiful."

Rita could tell he was truly speaking from the heart when he said that. Being married to the man for so long made her adept at deciphering his truth from his lies.

But still, he just didn't understand.

"It's not just about beauty, Lynn," Rita said sadly. "I don't want to be complacent. Just because it might be "okay" for someone of my age to not be able to stay in shape that easily, doesn't mean that I want to grow old and grossly overweight."

She flipped over until she was lying on her belly and rested her chin on her hand, now giving her husband her full attention as she gazed at him.

"I can't rest on my laurels. Today, it's a few pounds. Tomorrow, it'll be a few more. And the day after that, I'll be as big as a beach whale."

"That's a pretty big leap, don't you think?" Lynn Sr. said jokingly.

His attempt at amusement only made Rita frown.

"You get the point," she said firmly.

Tense silence followed after that. Lynn Sr. didn't know what to say to cheer his wife up but if he was going to get to the bottom of doing it, he had to know one thing first.

"So…what're you gonna do?"

Rita needed little time to contemplate. The gears had been turning in her head since she laid out her frustrations and woes on the table. She didn't have an idea on the specifics just yet but she knew one thing…

She was going to have to change the way that she lived from now on.

"I have to start cracking down even harder," Rita said determinedly. "I'll have to switch up my diet and work even harder when I exercise."

She couldn't let this temporary failure sidetrack her. She was going to maintain a healthy weight if it killed her. Whatever old habits she thought she could live with, that cost her of pride and health, would have to go out the window.

But as Rita mulled over a new plan of action, she realized an important facet of those habits; often, they would include her entire family, too.

Pizza nights. Ice cream parties. A smorgasbord of snacks for family movie night; they were tying her down and by proxy, her husband and children…were being tied down, too!

Rita frowned at the horrifying discovery. She couldn't improve herself knowing that she sat idly by while her family, namely her children, suffered a fate that would catch up with them when they least expected it.

No, she'd have to implement a better life for them, too! They would grow stronger and healthier as a family and nothing would get in the way of that!

"Lynn?"

Lynn Sr. peered down at Rita and gulped nervously.

That look on her face; the wily-curved eyebrows and wickedly canny grin. It didn't befit someone with good intentions.

"Why don't you let me cook dinner tonight?"

A/N: Just wanna give you guys a heads up real quick; this story will probably have infrequent updates. I originally planned to have this all done in one long one-shot but I was at a loss as to what I should do with the planned-out structure of the story. Obviously, as you can plainly see, I have the beginning mapped out. I also have a clear vision of the ending but the middle is where things get murky. I'll have to brainstorm what I want to do between this first chapter and the ending so bear with me until then.