Sunday, June 25, 2006
Lately, it seems I've been engaged in the Battle of the Bulge. Practicing girth control hasn't been so easy. Honestly, my recent weight gains haven't become problematic yet. Tipping the scales at 170 pounds with a 34-inch waist hardly makes me a round mound, but it confirms that being middle-aged refers to more than just the calendar.
....This time last year, I weighed in at 155 soaking wet. There were no love handles casting shadows on my size 32 belts. My neckties, when I had to wear one, hung straight without the need of deeply held breaths.
....Now those same ties seem to have developed a slight bow, even when I'm not wearing them. I can attribute this to the fact that my stomach has gone through some geographic changes. Fortunately, the bread basket hasn't begun to obscure the view of the plumbing.
....My wife admonishes me for these observations, however. Suffice it to say, she has spent more time in these skirmishes than I. She swears to all that's holy, that she can gain five pounds just looking at cheese cake.
....This morning she demonstrated the effects of gravity, to a captive audience I must admit. The lesson was not lost me as she cupped her ample breasts and reminded me that I had no worries about mine sagging earthward.
....My well intended offer to help her hold them was not met with the desired appreciation I'd wanted. Even when I reminded her that after 34 years of marriage she still looked good to me, I sensed it fell on deaf ears. This was one confrontation that precluded any references to weapons of mass distraction. Any thoughts of sexual play was in a state of hors de combat.
....From behind the bathroom door I heard her exclaim, "One size fits all? What a crock of shit!" So much for the outfit she was planning to wear, I thought. I thought better of reminding her that the ass is always leaner on the other side of the dressing room door.
....At this point, my own lamentations over my anatomy seemed insignificant. Pursuit of the subject would only bring about unwanted histrionics anyway. It was supposed to be a day of celebration. Today is our daughter's 32nd birthday. Therein lies the crux of our geography, physics and anatomy lessons for the day. Implied, but unbreeched was the matter of quantum physics, where it holds true that for every year a child ages, likewise so do the parents.
....We each wolfed down hastily made cold cut sandwiches as soon as we realized we were losing another battle, this time against the clock. I know that eating on the run isn't the healthiest way to dine, and it reminded me that haste makes waist. My wife left first to pick up a cake - surprise - at the last minute. That left me to load up the gifts before I could also hit the road. On the way, she was also going to pick up the meal. The meal du jour? A bucket of KFC, of course!
....Yes, there will be some more military references before this day is over. Are you familiar with navel maneuvers?
Curmudgeon responsible for this post: Hale McKay at 4:47 PM