The random weight/size comments haven't stopped flowing out of Michael's mouth. It's starting to get old. Here is his latest...
We were at Red Robin for dinner tonight. We sat at a booth, one where the table is not move-able. I knew instantly that I was going to be uncomfortable because although I was sitting up as straight as possible, my belly was still pressed firmly against the table. I could have used at least another 2 inches in between the seat back and the table. But, I made do. As we were getting up to leave, I mentioned to Michael that my legs were stuck (meaning, it is 34 degrees Celsius today, I'm wearing shorts and I'm sitting on a vinyl seat. The back of my legs are stuck to the seat).
Instead of being a gentleman and offering his hand, he quickly responds with a big smile and the following comment: "Do you need a pry bar to get out?"
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