That’s So Sweet… Kind Of.
Jason (picking up a box on the counter of our bathroom as I sit in the bath): ‘Facial wax strips’? What the hell do you need these for?
Me: First of all, we’ve already had this conversation. You’re getting senile. Secondly, you do not even want to know how much maintenance it takes to be a woman in her mid-30s. It’s tedious and exhausting.
Jason: All that work to keep this fabulousness? (He gestures to himself in a long, sweeping head-to-toe motion.)
Me: Oh I’m fully aware if I went au natural, stopped working out and embraced carbs you’d be out the door in a second.
Jason: Me? No… you’re ridiculous.
Me: You’ve already told me like 5 times you’d leave me if I got fat.
Jason: Stop it, that’s not true. I love you for you. You’re being silly. (From around the corner as he’s leaving the room.) Just don’t do it.
Secondly, you do not even want to know how much maintenance it takes to be a woman in her mid-30s. It’s tedious and exhausting.
I musta never been a woman in her mid-30s then.
Feel free to hate me.
I do.
And I’m 40 now. So much hate!
The wife and I have a “don’t get fat policy”. Discussed it before we were married.
If either of us gains enough weight to make us uncomfortable or prevent us from doing things, the other one has complete authority to make them work out, control diet, etc.
Of course, Katie eats like a bird, so this is really for me.
Wait until you’re 60. And then, it really doesn’t matter how much effort you put into it, you’re still not going to be what we like to think of as “attractive.”