I relinquished the thought of writing until this…

As I was sitting here staring at the computer screen, I felt a magnetic force pulling be towards my bath tub.  I had just about decided to nix the whole writing a post endeavor and spend a little time maybe soaking when sweet husband walked in and ever so gently placed a notebook and pen next to the keyboard.

That sounds like no big deal in and of itself BUT he was holding me accountable.  He was sweetly holding me accountable and I was just not going for it.

Not one little bit. 

So, as I sit here typing, I am glancing over at the notebook that is not only conveniently located close to me (and did I mention that the pen is uncapped and ready for use as well?) but turned to the correct page. 

And why might he be so ever organized AND persuasive?  That, my friends, is the question that led me back to this computer.  I stupidly announced on Sunday night that I would start keeping a journal of what I ate.   I said that only to make me feel better about the extra 5,000 calories I was currently consuming. 

The husband did not take it so lightly. 

Either he truly wants me to meet my goals (and struggles in reading into my deeper meanings) or he thinks I truly need to lose those few pounds that need to go to make room for all that Thanksgiving goodness. 

So, as I see him eyeing me, wondering if I will sincerely jot down what I ingested today, I can’t help but think that is is just not fair that the man is the equivalent of a woman’s size ZERO.  And it is not fair because he is a garbage disposal.  He can eat anything and maybe even lose weight while doing so.

I will leave my sacred bloggyland with a comforting thought: that my husband is genuinely concerned about me, my goals (probably wanting me to get my full money’s worth out of my personal trainer), and my self-esteem. 

But let me tell you something, mister, throwing that little blue notebooky at my fingertips just might not be the way to go about it.

I am off to the tub with no guilt. 

Until I crawl into the bed and am handed (tenderly) that blasted blue book again.


Post a Comment

Required fields are marked *

%d bloggers like this: