Like most of us after the holidays, Hubby has a few extra pounds right now. It's not really that much, and thanks to his quite fortunate genetic make-up, any extra pounds always come off fairly easily. A few years ago he enjoyed holiday food so much that on Jan 3 he popped the button on three straight pair of pants as he was getting dressed for work. I laughed my head off and took to calling him Fat Boy for about a week. I would hear him rumbling around in the kitchen in the evenings, and say, "Hey, Fat Boy! Whatcha looking for in there?" Of course, the pants all fit fine after a few days of watching his diet and exercising a bit more, so the nickname was history, and I reverted back to the ol' standby, "Old Man."
I chose not to make any reference to the belly in recent days, but Princess has really noticed. She is not pleased at all with the way he looks. She has fussed at him about his diet, and then drawn up a rather extensive chart for an exercise regime. She has to initial when he has completed some activity. She even made him take a fast walk in a hail storm a couple days ago. Gillian - move over. This personal trainer looks like the toughest of them all!
(and yes, for all you men reading out there - I am well aware that Hubby could never, ever make a reference to my weight and hope to live. But as my mom always told me, life's not fair.)