Being Combative is a Good Thing

Back to see Dr. Evil again this week. For some strange reason, I have to go every week as if I can't be trusted not to whoof down a whole cake! Each week when I drag myself of bed, get the kids ready for school and hop on the SNCF headed toward St. Lazare. I take the Line 12 to his office and I always arrive in a huff.

This week he's late and when our appointment starts, he always begins by reading my food diary from the week prior. God, I hate that thing! After an endless string of "hums" and "a-has" he finally indicates that it is time for me to step on the scale get weighed for the week. He looks at me a says, "You 'ave on the same trousers from last week."

I'm not in the best of moods today so I snap back, "So, and you 'ave on the same suit from last week. These are my 'skinny pants' so maybe that's your 'skinny suit!'" I, of course, am not laughing.

He starts to laughs. "That's what I like about American women. You are so combative! I like your fire!"

Combative, indeed, and I hope I never change.