Why oh why can the LOML eat a whole family block of fruit and nut chocolate, washed down with at least a litre of full-strength Coke (no diet stuff here), without putting on weight?
Why can he do no exercise at all (not counting walking the bins out to the kerb) and still maintain his weight?
Me, I so much as breathe in the aroma of a freshly baked choc-chip muffin and my bum is suddenly stretching the seams of my jeans in an alarming fashion. Looking at pictures of cakes and slices in a magazine can make the scales climb higher.
It's just not fair.
Not fair at all.
And if the LOML does notice a little paunch suddenly encroaching over the top of his belt, well, he just stops the chocolate and the coke for a week and it's gone! Gone! Just like that! No need for hour long runs on the treadmill five times a stupid week, no need for counting calories and sugar and fat for weeks on end, no need for removing all food containing said calories and sugar and fat from the fridge because you have no willpower to resist....nope, he just eases up on the crap and problem solved. Totally not fair.
I keep telling him that one day his technique won't work and then he'll actually have to start eating a little better (ie no more coke and chocolate) and engaging in regular exercise in order to shift excess kilos (welcome to my world!). Poetic justice that day will be. I shall not be gracious in his defeat!
In the mean-time, I'll be the one hitting the pavement come rain, hail or shine* in an attempt to limit the addition to last year's winter coat and trying to contain my sweet-tooth so I don't resort to inhaling the entire contents of the sugar jar just to get a hit.
I'll also be the one in the corner crying 'it's not fair' over and over while rocking back and forth holding an empty box of fruit loops.
* who am I trying to kid? I won't be out walking in the rain or the hail but that's what I have a treadmill for....truly, it's not just for hanging clothes on!
For the first time in my entire (almost) 16 years of marriage, my husband is getting a little belly. I must admit, I'm a little happy that he has it, and I don't. Well, at least it's not as big as his.
ReplyDeleteHearing you Shelley.
ReplyDeleteAnd I was going walking this afternoon come hell or high-water ... but ran out of daylight!
There's always tomorrow.
I'm glad I'm not the only one who feels a little tinge of happiness when the other half has a pot belly Tex! Guilt shared is a whole lot lighter!
ReplyDeleteDaylight (lack of) sucks this time of year Fiona doesn't it? Once upon a time winter meant hibernating for me, sleeping and slowing down, but these last few years I just never seem to have enough daylight hours available to me to do what I need to get done. I don't know what has changed for it to be this way? I do know it's getting harder and harder to get up in the cold mornings and do the necessary exercise to keep the winter coat at bay!