When my husband embarked on his running/healthy eating jaunt, I was super impressed (“Look at my fit, svelte husband! Hasn’t he done WELL?” etc.) However, as he continues to shrink whilst I amble towards a pinnacle of hugeness, the once-vague concept of our weights overlapping is becoming a Very Real Threat. I’ve no choice but to fight back in the only way I know how. I’m reinstating the “if I do the shopping and the cooking, then I get to decide what we’re eating” covenant. Giant mountains of pasta and/or buttery potatoes will be served every night. Cakes will be baked. Squiggle Tops may be crushed up and added to healthy morning smoothies. I feel better already.
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