The pool opens in 9 days. It's fair to say I'm assessing the 'damage' from the winter - the long days of snowbound inactivity, the many chili meals, the accompanying beers. As usual, I judge, and find myself sorely lacking. (Or sorely 'over-endowed' as the case may be. Yikes.)
There've been a few extra workouts in recent weeks.
So I'm talking to Cecilie on a walk yesterday, and she asks me if an female acquaintance of ours would be considered "stout." After swallowing a smile, I demurred - well, not stout exactly. I think she's probably just about like me.
My eldest - my biggest fashion critic, the one who paid me the compliment of being 'Presentibil' on Mother's Day - stopped short, aghast: Mommy! You're not stout! You're not even the stoutiest bit stout!
I think I'll keep her.