Today I made the mistake of stepping onto the scale. As I apprehensively peered over my huge belly an innocent voice from behind me said, “Two hundred and forty eight!”
For a boy whose ability to count to TWENTY is variable on the best of days, this DRAMATICALLY high (and, I might point out, INACCURATE) number took me a bit by surprise.
But not to fear; it was his turn next to get on the scale and as he did so he proudly announced that he was “Two and a half”.
So it may NOT be that I look like I weigh 248 lbs. It may just be that he thinks I’m two hundred and forty eight years old. What a relief.
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