Mr. B. glanced over the computer screen and saw what the doctor just typed. Obesity. The word he feared most. Somehow he know a day like this would arrive. That he will be officially labelled as obese. The dirtiest 5-letter word of all. The ultimate insult.
"I want you to come back for another check-up next week," the young lady doctor said. "I need to monitor your cholesterol level."
Cholesterol. Another dirty 11-letter word. That evil thing that results from stuffing yourself with nice things such as foie gras, scampi, escargot and chicken fried steak.
"You need to lose your weight in two months." the doctor continued.
Lose weight. Mr. B. gains weight just breathing in air. Must he stop breathing?
"I might have to put you on weight loss medication. We'll see." she explained.
Medication. How did he come to this?
He came home feeling defeated but with two shopping bags full of groceries. He made grilled fish, aubergine with mince pork and tofu with broccoli for dinner with D. but hardly ate anything.
Eating. The root of all evil. This should be outlawed. Together with all the great chefs of the world. And the culinary shows too.
I gave him a big hug. Things will be just fine I kept telling him.