I’ve been doing Weight Watchers for a little over three months. I’m pleased with my progress, especially since I rarely feel hungry or deprived. A little over three weeks ago, Eric broke down and joined me. Having done South Beach together a few years ago, I knew what to expect, but it didn’t soften the blow much when he told me how many points he gets a day (almost double what I get) or how many extra points he gets for exercise (more than double mine). He has learned not to tell me how many pounds he’s lost; he just tells me the number on the scale, and I say, “Good job, honey!”
This morning, he had what I can only call a lapse in judgment. We were driving to the Y, and he told me it was an exciting day for him; that for the first time, he would earn 50 Activity Points. Then he laughed at me when I flipped him off. He does that a lot, actually. It’s to the point that all I have to do is say, “Mackinaw*.”
Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad he’s losing weight. He’s at risk for diabetes, his cholesterol is high, and his knees have been giving him trouble for years. He’s already feeling healthier, for which I’m grateful because I’m not done with him yet. And let’s face it, if something is too hard, there is increased risk for giving up.
But does it have to be THAT easy for him? Really?
*You’ll probably have to zoom out on the map a little.