Just How Much Do My Jeans Weigh?

Mood: Tired and Stressed

What I'm watching?: Are You Being Served? (Love the old British Comedies!)

That's right, it's time for the ultimate grudge match. In a fit of what can only be called post holiday depression looking for a kick down the stairs, my loving husband and I purchased a bathroom scale. Obviously we're both suffering from the temporary insanity that can only come after consuming a months worth of Christmas cookies and candies topped off by way too many fuzzy navels on New Year's Eve because otherwise why would two normal, rational people want to actually put a number on the damage that all that merry making has done to their waistlines?

We brought it home and left it in the package for the first 24 hours, both of us skirting around it and waiting for the other to mention the fact that we now own an instrument whose sole purpose is to tell us, in scientific terms, just how fat our asses really are. *See previous "temporary insanity" disclaimer.*

Finally Sparky decides that it's time to face down the beast so he pulls out the scale and sets it on the kitchen floor...seems fitting, returning to the scene of the crime to face our punishments. He stepped onto it with the confidence of a man who, while sporting a bit of a belly, is still, well, a man, and he can get away with sporting a bit of a middle age belly. He proudly announces his number which is about 50 lbs more than what he weighed about 4 years ago but he's not bothered, he just rubs his belly and affectionately dubs it his "food baby".

Then, it was my turn. *sigh* After much procrastinating and whining, I did step onto the scale and while I'm definitely NOT going to share my number...I don't have the same sense of pride in my "food baby" as my husband has in his...suffice it to say that I'm properly in shock and working my way into a good state of denial.

Just wondering...is it 100 lbs that one is supposed to deduct for clothing?? After all, it is winter and I was wearing a long sleeved shirt. *sigh*