Well, my wife is making me gain weight. And you may be rolling your eyes skyward and thinking, "Ah yes, the old 'I'm only fat because my wife made me do it' bit," but honestly, it's true. I didn't know this, but apparently there comes a point where the pregnant mind puts aside all prior rational notions of "I know I'm thin in real life and I'm only gaining this tiny, miniscule amount of weight because of the baby, I'm not actually getting fat" and reaches a breaking point. And when this point is reached, the pregnant person's spouse becomes the number one basis of comparison/resentment, particularly if he (not to flatter himself or anything) happens to be, if not Michael Phelps-ian, at least in reasonably good shape. This typically leads to a situation in which the pregnant party issues an ultimatum that if he doesn't stop going to the gym and drinking Coke Zero and losing that bleeping weight, he is going to be sorry, mister.
So now you know why I had to have four beers tonight. It's a tough life, but no sacrifice is too great for the mental wellbeing of a man's wife.
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