My Husband Thinks I’ve Got Fat!

He pulled at the pooch on my tummy which is now a little more than a pooch and said teasingly, “where did you get this from?”, he gave it a small tug and said, “did you put it in your shopping trolley at ASDA?”

I don’t like people to touch my fat but the fact that he could take some of it meant, to me, that:

1. I have indeed got fat. That pully thing never used to happen. Never!

2. He noticed it and called me out on it!! (horrified face)

I like my Nutella on a teaspoon, and won’t say no to peanut butter and jam on toast because there is a small American sitting inside of me who adores PB&J time. I like burgers and melted cheese and plenty of golden roasted potatoes and gelato is something that has become my weakness much like penguins are.

Only I don’t eat penguins, I eat gelato.

But aren’t penguins cute?!

He noticed and now I have to go along to the gym with him, and workout daily and sweat profusely because I don’t want to be podgy while he gains some wondrous muscles and luscious abs. Oh dear. I do like exercise though.

I just don’t like not having chocolate and sweets and penguin gelato. That is the worst bit. I am a pure foodie like my mama before me and her mama before her. I can’t understand how people can say no to such things. I know, it is an exhibition of self control and lack of greed which apparently is something to aspire to but… but… oreos!

Also I am a good cook (honest!) and I thoroughly enjoy cooking which doesn’t help my dilemma at all. People who like to cook cannot exist on mere salads. Fact.

I do like fruits and vegetables and salads and healthy smoothies though. They might be a soothing alternative to my inflated dessert brain. Withdrawal symptoms will certainly occur. After all, sugar is a drug. A very attainable drug at that!

Falkland_Islands_Penguins_40

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3 thoughts on “My Husband Thinks I’ve Got Fat!

  1. Oh dear. I can relate. I tried on a pair of last year’s jeans this morning and it was a no-go. I don’t each much because I’m a terrible cook. My problem is writing all day in my recliner. The treadmill is shouting my name.

    Liked by 1 person

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