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At first we thought our clothes were shrinking.
Maybe the laundry was to blame.
We cursed the cheap materials.
Then we saw a snapshot of ourselves at a party,
And noticed we'd gained some weight.
It looked like Jack and Misty faces painted on balloons...
At least that's how it seemed to us.
We quit smoking years ago.
and seldom drink alcohol anymore.
There wasn't much left to give up.
We gave up hope for Lent.
I had to lie down and inhale to get my jeans on,
but I refused to buy a larger size.
Breathing was a chore.
My sentences came out in little sections,
with breaths in between.
I used to sock away some beer or better everyday,
and never got fat.
In those days we did all Dean Martin's old drunk jokes:
"I only drink to steady myself.
Last night I got so steady I couldn't move".
"I know my capacity for alcohol.
I just keep getting drunk before I reach it".
"One drink and I feel like a new man.
Then the new man wants a drink".
"She didn't know I drank
until she saw me sober one day".
"I don't drink as much as I used to.
I'm spilling more now".
Those days are gone.
Now, back to our battle against the bulge:
We tried EVERYTHING except diet and exercise!
We're almost back to normal now,
but we feel like a monk and monkess.
We don't do enough bad stuff anymore!
How dull can you get?
Late last night we were sitting quietly at the kitchen table,
with a rerun of Hawaii 5-0 in the background.
I lifted my bowl of corn flakes, and said this to Misty:
Without changing expression,
she lifted her tangerine to me, and said:
Copyright © November 13, 2001 by Jack Blanchard. All rights reserved.