DH's Phone Call from Work...

DH has a tendency to phone me from work. Constantly. Some days it's only twice, others it seems like every ten seconds.

He has his PT test through the military.

When he was on active duty he was, well, more active. Much more active.

Now he's guard, well, you get the point from the previous sentence.

I know it's terrible, but DH is vain. He likes looking good not for me, but so "the other girls are jealous of you babe" as he puts it to me.

Now, when I answer the telephone just a moment ago and I hear his voice I know in my guts something is wrong. It's the same tone and strain when something terrible has just happened. My heart starts racing. My mind is going through "Who died?! What hospital are you going to?! Accident?!" -- you know the list.

Then I get this...

"I got on the scale and it said 227 pounds and I know I've gotten a bit tubby but 227?! Then when they measured around my belly button it was 38 inches- and I was sucking it in!"

He's 6'1" by the way...

After telling him he's a bastard for doing that to me (panic of "oh no!") I can't help but laugh.

He's going to the gym after work today. Won't go for a walk with me, won't try Pilates, won't run with MP (who has much longer legs than SP), won't put down the chips until the bag is gone, and won't eat Subway instead of McDonald's... yet is now going to the gym.

I guess it's time to start hiding my chocolate stash! Shame on me for laughing, but I couldn't help it.