The Dreaded, Evil Scale.

I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want it. I never wanted one in my house. I took great pride in bragging I didn’t even own one.  Now what do I do to feel superior the next time the girls are gathered around the kitchen table with our gourmet lite popcorn and half empty wine bottles when the conversation turns to numbers?  Lie and say I never step on the thing?

It all started when I was out of town one weekend.  This is dangerous as it somehow never fails to spark some unnatural desire deep within my husband’s soul until he can no longer fight it.

When I’m out of town, he goes shopping. To the grocery store. The hardware store. The mega mall. No retailer is safe from his wanderings.

So I came home, and oh, did I mention it was in the height of swimsuit season? So I came home and there It was in our bathroom:  A gleaming square of glass and digital numbers.  At least with the old needle scales, I could squint my eyes and make the needle skirt to the left a smig.  I could round up (when I was pregnant) and round down (every other waking moment of life).  The needled scale saved my fragile little ego.  And it was simple to use. Step on. Swear it’s wrong. Step off.

This one not only has a digital read out, it’s programmed for each individual user.  “Step on it honey!” ordered my husband, with more excitement than the last time he got a cart load of chocolate Easter bunnies at 75% off. 

“Okay, now step off.  Let’s see, Age.”  He pushed buttons to adjust the numbers. “Now, height.” At which point the man who’s lived with me for 22 years asked,  “How tall are you?” More button pushing. “Okay, this is soooo cool. Now step on. Wait wait!” More  button pushing. “See? You’re user number Three. Melanie and I are already programmed in as User One and Two.” (How’s that for Daddy-Daughter bonding?)

“Okay, step on, User Three!” This was getting creepy, but the man had already started cooking dinner and I wasn’t gonna blow that by busting his techno gadget bubble of glee.

“Now don’t step off yet.  See, there’s your weight. Waaaaait for it…look!  There’s your hydration level—isn’t that cool? And it can also measure….” I waited for him to tell me it could also clean the toilets and iron, but no such luck. 

That said, bless his heart it is rather useful for collecting dust, stubbing toes and crushing egos—features not originally advertised on the packaging.

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