I hesitate for a moment looking dubiously at the scales. I haven’t weighed myself in months, it’s not that I avoid it, it's just that it never occurs to me.
Now I’m worried, I think of all the chocolate I’ve been eating.
Exhaling slowly, I step up. 61.7kgs.
I can’t believe it, I weigh the same as always.
Pfft exercise schmexercise.
I can keep eating chocolate. Excellent.
Next we head over to the wall mounted measuring tape.
I know at 26, it is assumed that I have stopped growing but last time I was measured, I had a pleasant surprise. It appeared that I had grown to the proud height of 174cm.
Which put me 2cms ahead of Mum and ended one of the great family debates. (in my opinion anyway).
Down comes the measuring tape thingy.
Oh dear I’ve shrunk 1.4cm.
I remember the short friendly nurse who measured me at 174cm.
Looking up at the doctor, something clicks into place and it's not just the measuring tape retracting. This is what happens when someone taller than you does the measuring.
I believe it’s called accuracy.