We were at the University of Washington Medical Center (UWMC, as they coined it) last Friday for the Ultrasound/Genetic Counseling, and a couple were walking away when the man said this to his wife:

"After this baby is born, we're going on a diet. Both you and I."

I laughed because I know the truth of it, I've been gaining the pounds alongside my pregnant wife. I would like to say that I'm having sympathy eating habits with my wife, but I'm not really sure if that's the case. It's that with the combined evolution into a father. By that, I mean the thing your parents do when you were younger, whereby if you don't finish your food, they'll come along and eat it so as to not waste it. Well, that's become somewhat my attitude toward food recently, whereby I will actually mourn food that has to be thrown away. Not that I will miss eating it, but rather that I just hate wasting it.

To compound upon that, my wife has been battling a cold lately, so she hasn't got the appetite most of the time. What this equates to is an abundance of leftover food, which I always foolishly attempt to save by eating it all. For example, we had pizza and Jalapeno poppers for dinner tonight, and after her second slice and fourth popper, she was done. I almost finished the whole pizza and the rest of the poppers, and now I'm dealing with indigestion and a uncanny resemblence to my wife's belly, except there is no baby inside my body. Which is probably a good thing.

Though Trenchcoat is itching to get me to exercise, I doubt that would ever come to light being how I work so early in the morning, and when I get off work, getting off my feet would be priority number one. The other solution I can think of is just to cook smaller portions, since my wife isn't eating much and I certainly need to eat less. It's funny, really. I guess in a twisted sort of way, I am eating for two.