The Dilemma

I have been invited to a formal party this Friday night. A black tie affair. For some, that would mean pulling the tuxedo out of the closet. For me, it would be a very long and unrewarding investigation of my wardrobe. The closest I can come to meeting the requisite look is to put on a suit. And when I say a suit I mean it. For I can count all those I own on a single finger.

It has been 8 years since this purchase. I know that as my daughter and son in law's 8th anniversary is early next month. Since that time there has been little reason to get all gussied up. And on the rare occasion (more often a sad than happy one) that this suit and I met up, it has become ever more snug.

About 10 days ago, I made an attempt at trying this outfit on. As I do not own a scale and the closest I come to weighing myself is when I am in the doctor's office and they ask me to estimate how many stone I am, I was clearly without an adequate understanding that all that bread, all those cookies and cakes, the ice cream and the mid-day snacks translated to my now being able to close my pants only with excessive effort. The sad reality was that this would be a feasible undertaking only if I went to the party without wearing a shirt. No room to slide it under, around or through. I was basically a bit too round a hole to get into that square peg.

And thus I had two choices. A dilemma of my own making. I could either take the easy route or the more difficult. Head over to the tailor's for a quick recognition of the fact that my expanded belly and those love handles were real or step away from the table.

Every few years I find either my clothes have shrunk or I have begun to expand. Historically, I have had a relatively simple path to shedding any excess. I am fortunate in that way. But, as the years have passed, as with most everything else, simple is no longer simple.

Yet, rather than do what was expedient, I went down a dark alley. Now my stomach feels empty most of the time. I stare at the breads, at the desserts with longing. I have convinced myself I have lost almost enough of myself that I will be able to ease my shirt into its allotted slot later this week. I have not dared to see how it is going so far, for fear of what I may find.

So, if you should happen to bump into a person this Friday evening who is wearing a very nice suit (what else could it be for your child's wedding) but appears not to have a shirt on, you will know my gamble failed. Either that or I will figure out some method of being fully clothed but slightly unbuttoned.

I fear I may have chosen poorly.