Today was the annual weigh in/health assessment/torture session at Erik’s office. Better known as the ‘Day of Dread.’ Spouses have to come too, which only increases the pain. Not only does Erik have to get his body fat and cholesterol checked, but he’s obliged to listen to my incessant whining about the indignity of getting my waist measured and stepping on the evil scale.
No one likes to fail the assessment, so we’ve been very good lately. So much so, that Erik saved has Valentine cake in the freezer– swatting Ben away from it every few days, “But Dad, if it’s heart-shaped it must be mine.”
Poked, prodded, measured, cuffed, weighed and interrogated– Erik retired to his office to consume the cake.
He did say he might bring home a piece for me. Maybe.
hmm, does that look a wee bit posed?