Imagine Sammy’s reaction when you tell him you don’t want him to lose weight.
Earlier in the day, he had to chase down some guy who decided to get up and run out of the precinct when things got a little too Intense.
Sammy had trouble keeping up with the guy and Nate ended up catching him. Sammy was embarrassed because he got winded so easily.
Surely it was his weight that was the problem. He’s not fat or anything. But he’s got some chub on him.
So when you happily plate him dinner, his usual hefty amount on the plate, he pushes it back to you, to your confusion,
“Can you take a bit off that? I’m trying to lose weight.”
You frowned at him. Huffing but still fulfilling his request. Albeit, while grumbling to yourself within earshot of Sammy.
You set his plate down with a bit of an attitude and he’s taken aback,
“Jesus, baby, what’s the deal? I’m just trying to cut back.”
You give him a look as you sit down,
“What if I don’t want you to lose weight?”
You ask, to which he scoffs,
“You’ve gotta be kidding me. Look at me, baby. I had trouble keeping up with a suspect who ran off today.”
You shrug,
“That’s what Nate is for.”
He lets out a huff, but it sounds like an incredulous laugh,
“I don’t care that you’re chubby. I like you that way. I don’t want a man with washboard abs. I want my Sammy.”
You say, finally cutting into your food and taking a bite.
He thinks about it as he eats dinner, and ultimately ends up asking for seconds after he finishes his plate full of smaller portions.
Happy wife happy life, they say.
