Remember White Town? When “Your Woman” hit constant radio play, the adolescent versions of ourselves scratched our heads in pomo confusion. “Is he being ironical? Or is he gay? Or is he a she? Or, err…”
But our first hesitant steps into serious discussions of sexual identity were bowled over when the rumors of the guy’s morbid obesity came in. “I hear he can’t leave his house; that he just orders in Chinese and sits in front of his computer all day…”
A few days ago Dana and I heard the song again in our car, and we picked up the same conversations right where our 16- and 12-year-old 21- and 17-year-old [Heh. Heh. I can't do basic arithmetic] selves had left off. Of course, being married, the conversation inevitably circled around my girth and its accelerating course of growth.
This morning, Dana bounced off my abdomen while rushing to hug me.
“Pretty soon you will not be able to wrap your arms around me to hug me.”
“No. I will not let it get to that point.”
Beat.
“Will you still love if me I get so fat that I won’t be able to fit through the door?”
“No.”
Well that’s that, I guess. And I’m sure it will be all my fault.
humor, health, dana, diet, food, music
2 responses so far ↓
Cassandra // March 2, 2007 at 2:57 am
i’ve been seachin for the name of that stupid song which was stuck in my head, well now i know
johnny T. // March 5, 2008 at 6:55 pm
Thanks so much, i’ve been looking for the name of that song too.
Leave a Comment