Thursday, February 2, 2012

My husband's trying to kill me

...with kindness, I guess.

So, remember when I said that I'd given up the scale? Partially for zen and partially because my manfriend broke our scale? It's probably 60/40. Or maybe 50/50. Definitely not any lower than 20/80. Well, today manfriend comes home from Fleet Farm (his idea of heaven) with...a scale. And not just any scale ladies and gentleman (because I'm pretty sure I only have one loyal male reader. Shout out to you J-Tony. Isn't that odd that it's not my manfriend who's a loyal reader?). It's a scale that tells your body fat and your mother fucking water weight.

Breathe deep. I didn't weigh myself. Well, I did weigh myself but I CLOSED MY EYES and my manfriend looked at my weight and body fat and wouldn't TELL ME. Because that would be cheating. And I wouldn't cheat on you. Unless I get really desperate.

We did, however, weigh all the kids. The boys top out with a whopping 5% body fat a piece. Boo was not quite where I thought she'd be at around 15% body fat. Of course, the scale was assuming that they were all 10 year old midgets because we could only make the age go down as young as 10. I don't know why the scale manufacturers would have a problem with people checking out their prepubescent children's body fat percentages. That's not unhealthy or anything.

Anyway, I've been fighting the urge to weigh myself all day. Somehow I want to revert to all my bad habits, possibly weighing myself while drink a diet coke spiked with rum. Hell, I might as well smoke a cigarette while I'm at it. I'm thinking about putting a rubber band around my wrist and snapping it every time I get an urge to weigh myself, but I don't think that's very zen.

One day at a time. I might start weighing things in the produce section just to get my fix.

Oh, and some of you were wondering just precisely how he broke the scale. Funny story. I was all, "Do you think it's possible that the scale might need new batteries? It doesn't seem to be working properly."

Him: I don't know. Did you look at it?

Me: I did. I couldn't find anywhere to put a battery. Plus it was kind of yucky.

Him: Yucky? Did you try cleaning it?

Me: Well, I wiped it off. And it was still pretty yucky. And I still didn't see a battery keeper.

He picks up the scale and cleans it. Then takes it apart looking for a battery. He finds a battery and tests it.

Him: The battery is fine.

He puts the battery back in and puts the scale back together.

Him, standing on the scale: Huh. That's funny. Try this.

Me, standing on scale: Ooooh. I like that. Oh, wait that's not right. I don't weigh 99.5 pounds.

Him: Yeah. That's kind of what I figured.

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