...and counting

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‘They look absolutely delicious, darling.   But it will cost me 65 minutes so I’ll decline.’

 ‘Over an hour?’ 

‘Afraid so.  A whopping 354.   That is 65 minutes cycling, or 3 hours gardening.’

 ‘You don’t have a garden and I don’t think watering the plants on the balcony will count, darling.'

  'I’ll have one of those biscuits.   That will set me back around 1 hour of playing with Chloe.  We will go to the park with a ball.   Would do her good as well, she is building up a little puppy-fat we need to get on top of.  So how’s Jeremy?’

‘Fine.  I can’t for the life of me understand how he can keep so slim; all these lunches and dinners he has to go to.   Of course, he won’t stay in any hotel without a fitness suite.  Still, it’s not fair.’

‘Oh, dear, look at that.’

‘That’s gross.  Size 20, at least.  I’d positively kill myself.’

‘Hot chocolate with cream and a Danish: that’s over 700.   That’s half of what I do in a day.  She should be ashamed of herself.’

‘Quite.   So what’s for dinner tonight?’

‘I’m on day three of the cabbage soup diet, so cabbage soup, vegetables and fruit.   That’s all I’m allowed.   Richard complains that I fart but I told him that if he wants a slim wife, he can grin and bear it.   You?’ 
‘Just chicken and spinach.   Jeremy is away so I can do whatever I want.   When he’s home, he needs steak.   And I can’t stand red meat anymore.’

‘Still on the 5:1?’

‘Yes.   Tomorrow is one of my fasting days; only 500.   There are times though, that I am fed up with all this counting and dieting.   Aren’t you?’

‘Well, darling, a diet is a penalty we pay for exceeding the feed limit.   It can’t be helped.’

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