Bit By Bit

I could stand to lose weight.

I spend way too much time playing butler, driver, and commuting to and from work to squeeze in much exercise.


My wife's sister's husband lost weight, tracking his steps with one of those special wristbands. (His wife is still obese and he was never obese, but that's another story). So my wife asked me if I wanted one.

I declined. I already know how to eat less and move more.

But after my wife's most prominent ex-boyfriend died suddenly of a heart attack, my wife didn't ask me again; she bought me one of the devices and informed me after the fact. Mind you, this was the woman who insisted on having our most recent exercycle removed from the house because it was "taking up space" (if you could see where it was, you'd  laugh because there was plenty of space). I think I'd used it a grand total of zero times after she insisted on buying it to replace the previous, broken cycle (which I had used regularly for quite a while). One of the reasons, besides my additional time-consuming responsibilities, that I didn't ever use it is that the kids kept playing on it and, in doing so, had removed some parts. I had tried to keep the parts close to the machine, but what was futile. So, the money spent on it was entirely wasted.


My wife apparently thought that by buying me this  wristband device, I would suddenly find the time and will to actually track and input my food consumption and to exercise more. Never mind that from the time I get home until I finally get to sleep late, I'm usually butler to her and the kids.

The other day, I joked about fooling the device by tying it to something else that was mobile. Her reaction made it very clear to me that I was not to joke about the device, ever.

I had previously told her not to buy it for me. She did anyway. And now she expects that I'm going to change my behavior because I have a device I didn't want in the first place. Oooookaaaaay.

If she REALLY cared about my health so much, she'd prepare at least some of my meals, instead of none of my meals. (Remember, she's a SAHM.)

If she REALLY cared about my health so much, she'd make lovemaking a priority, and not a rare and brief thing.

If she REALLY cared about my health so much, she'd change things a bit so I could get more sleep and have less stress.

Of course she has reasons to want me alive. I wait on her and the kids hand and foot. I take care of the finances and mail. I keep the kids from beating her up (when I'm around). I do chores and errands.

But not enough to do anything to promote my longevity herself. No. Only enough to try to get me to add more to my figurative plate while putting less on my literal plate.