My wife, at least since I’ve known her, has always looked young for her age. When we were married she was 23 and looked 14. She continued to get carded until her mid thirties. Once, while grocery shopping with Beck, I ran into the mother one of the girls I’d coached. We exchanged pleasantries and as I started to introduce her to Rebecca, she blurts out, “So, is this your oldest?” She’s been mistaken for my daughter in obvious fashion a couple of times like that. When we are out in public I’m convinced that half the people assume that I’m her father.
Part of the effect comes from her skin. She has the most amazingly soft skin I’ve ever had the pleasure to touch. There are really no wrinkles on her face and that’s not from surgical stretching or Botox. Although it’s broken by copious moles (sexy!) it is a velvet glove stretched over her petite but muscular frame. When she was younger, her body fat ratio was down in the numbers reserved for top athletes.
We have no scales in our house. We really don’t want our daughters to obsess about wieght. Haven’t had one for over a decade. I wiegh myself at the gym somestimes, but I never fluctuate more than a couple of pounds. I get flabby, but I don’t put on wieght, I just lose density.
When I tended bar, the waitresses were convinced that I would notice a five pound wieght swing. Like most of us, I like to look at peoples bodies. At that time I’d spent hours and hours drawing nude models, so I chalked this skill up to my understanding of the figure. Or was it hereditary, the same genetic combination that allowed my dad to judge cattle so precisely?
What I’m getting to here is that Rebecca lately has lost a significant amount of wieght. She hasn’t looked at a scale, but it’s obvious looking at her. She has not been on any specific diet, she walks and climbs the stairs at work, and works furiously in the garden. So there’s been no obsessive talk about Adkins or whatever the latest diet craze is, just that unstoppable force, Hard Ass Norwegian tough minded willpower. “I just started eating less.” The Norwegians are not loquacious by nature.
That’s the same Hard Ass Norwegian attitude that she brings to her job when she’s saving the client a hundred grand on a talent negotiation, and as Hard Assed as she is, all the vendors love her as well. Because she holds up her end of the bargain and is always fair. Just Hard Nosed.
Today is the nineteenth anniversary of my last drink. I am a very lucky man.