Wednesday, January 23, 2013

The Fat Partner

I have really been working some crazy long hours lately, so things on the home front have gotten a little out of control. When I walked in the door yesterday, I noticed that my house had started to resemble an episode of Hoarders. Toys and electronics were strewn everywhere and mail was piling up on the table. There was a Barbie Jeep parked in my dining room and my little robot vacuum was pouting in the corner. I half expected some random cats to start coming out of the shadows. No episode of Hoarders is complete without a bunch of cats.

Dude. I need a wife. Is this how polygamy gets started? I need a lady who will manage my household, cook for my family, clean up this mess, pay the bills and do some laundry. She would also need to be available to listen to all of my work drama and offer opinions on outfits. You know who would be perfect? Alice from the Brady Bunch, without all of the meatloaf.

Through all of the clutter, I noticed a newspaper section on the table. Not a whole paper, just a section that had been purposely pulled from the stack. Ordinarily, this would not even register on my radar screen. It was the headline that grabbed my attention:

“When one partner is overweight, resolving conflict in the relationship takes two.”

Clearly, this had been placed on the table for a reason. That Mister Fergs was way more diabolical than I had ever imagined. The article went on to make suggestions on how the fit partner in the relationship could gently goad the fatass into hitting the gym and eating salads without getting punched in the face.

Regardless of how much he has going on, Mister Fergs manages to make it to the gym almost every day. He is a picture of health and could grace the cover of Outside magazine right this very second with zero airbrushing. He is the fit partner. He will be so embarrassed when he reads this, but it’s true. He’s a hottie.

While not a total fatass, I could definitely make it to the gym more often and/or make better choices in the food department. Working lunches and mid-afternoon M&M infusions do not make you skinny. Collapsing on your couch at the end of the day due to mental exhaustion does not remove the junk from your trunk. I get it. I need to plan ahead for workout time and healthy snacks—and I will sit down and do just that…as soon as I get some time.

When he arrived home, I shoved that paper right in Mister Ferg’s face and told him that if he wanted me to slim down, he could just come out and say it. He was so horrified when he saw the headline, I had to laugh. He explained that the section was his favorite and since he didn’t have time to read the whole paper, he had pulled it out to save for later. He also added that he loved me just the way that I am. He’s as genuinely sweet as he is good looking.

Clearly, things are hectic and I either need to find us a wife or carve out some time to streamline the processes in the Ferguson household and also my life. Gummy vitamins can only do so much.  I'm going to go feed the cats.

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