We had, I admit, enjoyed an excellent week of social activity, much of it revolving around food.
There was a birthday meal out, in a restaurant which was new to us; a joint treat, actually, with a friend, so it was most convivial.
We went out for lunch at another friend’s house; again, very pleasant.
We invited the new lady who is going to be our animal-sitter around for a chili supper and it turned into a bit of a bash.
What with the usual weekly visit to the local on the main road, it was a food-packed week.
I thoroughly enjoyed it all.
Then, about ten days later, I woke up fat!
I know it sounds rather melodramatic, but that’s exactly how it was.
I went to bed feeling pretty much normal; that is to say that my clothes fit me as they normally did.
Well, when I awoke, I was uncomfortable.
I was aware of a bulkiness in the midriff area.
I felt bloated and heavy and large. I was, I realised with a start of horror, fat.
My trousers only just met across my now ample girth and my shirt was uncomfortably tight.
A friend of mine said that his wife suffered from what she describes as a ‘slow stomach’.
When she eats, it seems to be a while until this manifests itself in the flesh!
I think a more medically accurate term, and one which is a little more palatable, as it sounds like an unfortunate syndrome, is that I’m suffering from delayed metabolism.
That’s what I’m telling people anyway.
A day or two after the revelation of portliness, a friend mentioned that I looked a bit plump.
“Have you put on weight?” were his words, in fact.
Rather direct, I remember thinking, and a little forward, too, even for a friend.
I skirted deftly around the issue, retorting that I had a bad case of metabolic delay.
His face creased with concern and he was immediately contrite.
I thought that I might have got away with it, until another so-called mate mumbled into his beverage “yeah right; last week’s excesses are catching up with you, more like”.
I suppose it’s just the price you have to pay for enjoying yourself, isn’t it?
It’s a bit like a bank balance, I guess. If you’re lucky enough to pay in more than you take out, then you end up with a surplus.
Conversely, if you use up more than you put in then you’re in deficit.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve reached the age when I simply can’t avoid metabolic delay; I just don’t seem to use it up as fast as I used to.
I don’t seem to ‘tick over’ as fast as I once did and, as a consequence, the surplus builds up.
What I don’t quite understand is how it just appears one day.
It’s a bit like the bank balance suddenly going up all at once.
The problem is, I’ve now got to spend it, as it were, and not put as much in for a while.
So, it’s going to be a week or two of eat less and do more.
Hopefully I won’t have to buy any more trousers!
Mike Gaunt is a former headmaster at St Christopher’s School, Bahrain
– mikegaunt@gmail.com