In reporting on my doctor's visit today, I was rejoicing in the fact that I've lost about three pounds. In fact, I'm only eight pounds (fully clothed) from Philmont weight. Deanne said, "Good. You gonna keep that up?"
"Blah, blah, blah.*" I said. "Nothing's ever good enough for you, is it?"
"No," she replied, laughing.
I turned to Zach, who was beginning to make a pot of chili on the stove. "Was she like this as a mommy?" I asked.
"Yes," he said, without even looking up.
happy about my weight. This is usually the time of year when the wheels fall off the wagon, but I'm in pretty good shape for the shape I'm in. So there. Nyah.
*Not what I really said.