While most people celebrate the start of a new year with resolutions they only plan to keep for five days, hubby and his two brothers started the new year off by stepping on a scale, after a big family supper no less, and setting a wager.
All three of them decided it was time to drop a few pounds, and in true Tessier form they made a bet. The biggest loser and his spouse would enjoy supper at a very fancy restaurant, with the tab being picked up by the smaller losers and their spouses.
What happened to the good old days when you’d bet 20 bucks or a nice bottle of wine? And these men each enjoy culinary delights, a lot!
If you were at Costco the second week of January and saw hubby and me in the middle of an aisle, my apologies for the heated discussion you may have witnessed. But if you missed it, well allow me to recreate the experience.
As I was putting items like salmon and tuna in our shopping cart, hubby was complaining that he didn’t really like fish. We then proceeded to get produce where, once again, he was less than enthusiastic about avocados, spinach and sweet potatoes.
What the heck did he expect? He made a bet to lose the most weight, and since our treadmill is more than a decade old and gets dusted regularly, clean eating was his best chance for shrinking the waist line.
Feeling increasingly less patient as the shopping went on, we entered the area where they keep the scariest items. Yup, I’m talking quinoa, hemp hearts and plain oats. It was here that he decided enough was enough, and felt the need to make it known.
“I don’t want any of that stuff. I don’t like it, I can’t see myself eating any of it,” he pointedly said in a very stubborn voice.
Mind now you don’t!
My response was something like, “Too friggin’ bad! You started this, so unless you want to do this all by yourself, you’ll be eating the oats, raisins and everything else I cook!”
Eight weeks flew by and just last weekend, about an hour before our reservation at the specified restaurant, the weigh-in was scheduled.
There was all kinds of banter leading up to the big day, lots of lies being told, and lots of sucking-in of the stomachs when they were all together, but the scales would be the final judge and jury.
With everyone looking lovely for our dinner out, the dreaded weighing contraption was placed on the floor and the sweating began.
The rules were simple; they each had to step on the scale three separate times and the average of all three results would be their final weight. They even used the exact scale that was used to determine their original starting weight — yes, that too was the average of three results. Lost yet?
Well to make it more interesting, I was the tally person and decided to have a little fun with it. The guys would step on the scale, but I blocked their results so even they didn’t know what the numbers were.
Well, lo and behold, once I finally figured out how to work the calculator on my phone, the results were read aloud to the crowd, and wouldn’t you know it, the bickering in the middle of Costco must have worked, because hubby was handily the biggest loser.
All were great sports about it, the bet was honoured, and apparently all three are getting ready for another brand new wager. With barbecue season coming up, they’ve decided to switch it up a bit and see who can gain the most weight this summer. Kidding!
But there is talk of running the Tely 10. Well, two of them are talking about running it; the other one, it seems, will drive.
Email Paula Tessier at firstname.lastname@example.org.