Every day I think that I will get on here and post something, and everyday since Saturday I have been too far away from my computer to actually do it. I am going to try to commit to posting something every week day - it keeps me on track better.
So, the husband hid my scale again. Without my asking him to, I might add. Sunday night I went to go to the bathroom before bed, and there was a conspicuously empty space in the floor where my scale lives. Figuring that it didn't just get up and walk away on its own (although it could in protest of how often it is stepped on a day) I went to the bedroom and asked my hubby if he had seen the missing scale. "What?" he responded, so innocently. I narrowed my eyes at him and repeated the question more slowly for him. "Scale? What scale?" was his reply. "No, seriously, what did you do with my scale?" I asked, with a slight edge to my voice. To which I was replied "I took it away. It had already been out for longer than it should have been." And then he looked down at what he was doing again, as if that were the end of the conversation. It wasn't.
After explaining to him that there was no deal wherein he was supposed to take the scale away again after I got it back last Thursday, he asked me why I needed it. My voice may have been raised an extra octave as I told him that I NEEDED to know how much damage I had done to myself over Easter. He calmly told me that I did not need it, and that my goal has been to be in good enough shape to walk all over Disney World without being in pain or being any more tired than is customary when I go with my dad and sister in three weeks, and that that has nothing to do with the number on the scale. I looked at him with one eyebrow raised (my signature look when I can't believe what he is telling me) and was met eye to eye with the look that tells me he is right and that is that. "I can go find it you know," I said. "Go ahead," was his reply. I stared at him for a moment longer before breaking the gaze and shaking my head, saying "You know I won't do that."
So there you go. Apparently, according to the scale-Nazi, I get it back the day I leave for my trip (I had to talk him into that one - he wasn't going to put it back until after I was gone.) So there will be no weighing myself until April 24th. I was a little irritated for about a minute, but then that quickly turned into love for a husband who is truly looking out for my best interest and doesn't want me obsessing as I am wont to do.
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