The other day Steven, my husband, was wearing a new pair of shorts and showed me the waistband. It had folded over a bit. He remarked that he was gaining so much weight that the waistband couldn't stand up anymore. Then this conversation happened:
Steven: Remember only one of us can be fat at the same time. I guess it's my turn.
Me: Are you calling me fat?
Me: Yes you did. You just said only one of us can be fat. And THEN you said you were fat. So you just called me fat.
And I can start to see the fear in his eyes. To be fair, the entire "only one of us can be fat" theory was started by me a long time ago. When I gained weight the first time and Steven was so skinny, I used to joke that his family must have thought that I ate all the food and didn't feed him. And then when I lost the weight, he coincidentally gained weight.
Steven: I didn't call you fat. YOU called ME fat.
Good move. Get on the attack. Make her get on the defensive. Nice strategy, dear husband.
Steven: You called me fat.
Attack. Attack. Attack.
Me: You're so funny. There's no way out.
And then yesterday I went to my hair salon and the little Vietnamese lady that does my waxing poked me in the belly and said "baby?".
alright. I know. I'm fat. That's it, the Gods must be telling me something. I need to lose weight.