Are you sure? Measure one more time.

So the other night, Damian came across the measuring tape that he had taken to the furniture fair and he thought it would be fun to compare the diameters of our waists (I don't know why married people get the reputation for being boring!). He suggested it with a can't-wait-to-laugh-at-how-big-you've-gotten sort of glimmer in his eye. Having spent the night before coming up with a way to convert celsius to fahrenheit in our heads, I couldn't think of anything else fun to do, so I agreed. Damian measured me up and was confused to find that my 'waist' is an inch smaller than his. He actually insisted on measuring both of us three times and then explained that he was a bit bloated from dinner, so it shouldn't really 'count' (at 5 months pregnant, I was really sympathetic about a little bloating ruining his waistline). What fun will we think of next?!