A while back, my wife and I had boxed up all of my clothes that no longer fit, and stored them up in the garage. Then, after a while, I pretty much forgot about them. Out of sight out of mind, and all that. Besides, when I was refusing to admit I was fat, the last thing I wanted to do was think about the old clothes I couldn’t fit into.
Two weeks ago, my wife suggested that I dig them out and try them on. It took me a while to get around to it – mostly because I’m easily distracted when things aren’t important to me. But finally, yesterday, I dragged them into the house and tried them on.
Most of the shirts don’t quite fit yet. A few are tight through the shoulders, and most were right across my (smaller but still there) gut. But two of them fit just fine.
And then there were the pants. Two pairs of black jeans, one with a 56 inch waist and the other with a 54 inch waist. And both fit! I mean, the 54 waist is a little snug, but even that one buttoned and zipped up without a struggle! Which means that I’ve lost at least four inches on my waist!
So, yeah. I’m excited.