In case you didn’t know this, my wife is a blogger that contributes to the Curvy Girl Guide. She’s written about things in the past about our family — and even grooming habits – that I prefer to remain anonymous on, however her upcoming post on Wednesday covers a subject that deserves some discussion on EOT: Your wife’s weight.
Personally, my wife’s weight isn’t important to me. I’ve never asked her what she weighs as I know that with a lot of people this is a sensitive subject. I think at one point in our marriage I actually said “We’re good as long as you don’t weigh as much as me”. That being said, weight is often a difficult subject to discuss in any relationship. In fact, just the other week I popped a button on my pants. I remember the account vividly from our kitchen:
“Uuuuuuphh!”, which is the typical sound I make when I’m putting on pants somewhere around Friday through Monday, when I’m definitely not exercising and the slight weekend weight gain has drastically impacted my somewhat tight fitting pants.
SPROING!
“Uh…”, I muttered, “did you see where that went?”
Yes, folks — that was a reenactment of me popping a button. It wasn’t pretty but my lovely wife tried to make me feel better instantly.
“Those pants are just poorly made”, she explained, completely ignoring the fact that I put away 12,000 calories the previous weekend.
See, I typically don’t care about my weight unless my pants pop. And even then, I just figured that my pants were washed on hot. Safe to say that while I did eat a few salads over the next few days I drop a few pounds and fit into those pants again. But that’s not my point.
My point is that I never once stepped on a scale. I honestly don’t care how much I weigh as long as my back doesn’t hurt and my gut isn’t hanging over my pants. So it wasn’t a surprise to me, at least, that when my wife took on writing a blog post for Curvy Girl Guide asking women to come clean with what they weigh.
I sat here, amazed for a minute, thinking that this was still an issue. But it is. And I said to my wife these exact words:
“I am not reading your post.”
She looked at me, I’m sure slightly stunned.
“Why aren’t you going to read it?”, she asked.
“Because I don’t need to know. I have never asked, I honestly don’t care. It’s not something that has crossed my mind.”
And then she blurted it out.
I’m not sure why, and I certainly didn’t ask. I guess once you’ve described to other people what your “inners” are it’s pretty much all on the table.
