I think that I must have been adopted. Not really, but after speaking to my dad and my sister this week, I wonder why they are the way they are, and I am not that way. Let me explain. When my dad and I were chatting, he mentioned, for the one millionth time, that he weighed 195 pounds when he got out of the Army, and that now he weighs 205…pretty impressive for an 84 year-old guy.
Today, I was chatting with my sister who mentioned that she weighs 115 pounds, the same weight she was when she got married about 30 years ago. I won’t even go down the path of how a 5’6” person can weigh so little, but she has always been a size 2. Averaging us together, we are a “normal” weighted person.
Which brings me to the question of how this happened. I believe that the secret lies in owning a scale and using it. Both my father and my sister own scales and go through the daily ritual of weighing themselves. I, on the other hand, threw my scale out a few decades ago because, from what I remember, I didn’t want to know what it said. It’s the old conundrum of the chicken and the egg. I’m not sure which came first, my weight gain or my disposal of the scale.
But, now, I am becoming a little more like my relatives. I go to Weight Watcher meetings and they have a scale. A happy balance has been achieved.
Talk to you soon.
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