Moms: The nightmare of hubby 'on a diet'

My husband was blessed with a fast metabolism. For years, I've complained that he could eat and eat and eat, and I was the one who ended up gaining weight.

Deep down, I think I did blame him for my weight gain. After all, in my single gal days, I would come home from work and chow down on a 300-calorie Lean Cuisine and call that dinner. And if I dined out, it was usually drinks and sushi … or just drinks.

I also made time to work out three or four times a week. Back then, I only had to think about myself, so it was easy.

It was also kind of lonely.

So I was happy to trade away a little of my freedom for love and companionship. I was ready.

The workouts ended soon after we started dating. He's not a fan of gyms, preferring outdoor sports instead. And I would rather die than run around in the hot sun. So our time together was spent doing other things, like traveling — and dining.

And I quickly learned that my husband is a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy with some rigid "rules" about what is appropriate at mealtime. For instance, I don't dare serve him soup or salad and call that "dinner," nor would a sandwich suffice (in my husband's world, sandwiches are deemed "lunch").

It doesn't help that one hour after he finishes ANY meal, he's hungry again. If he goes too long without food, he feels ill. Years ago, I suspected he might be hypoglycemic and after a lot of nagging, he saw a doctor about it. The tests came back negative, so I dropped it and learned to listen for his hunger signs (the minute he complained that he felt "tingly" was when we would have to stop whatever we are doing and get him some food — and for many years, I would join him).

It's easy to see why I packed on a total of 60 pounds since our wedding day … and why I kind of resented him for staying slender.

Then a funny thing happened to him as he entered his mid-40s: He gained weight. Not so much that you would really notice — in fact, he was actually pleased when he discovered that the needle on the scale was moving up. But a few years ago, our teenaged nephew starting teasing my husband about his paunch, and when he took a look some photos taken over Thanksgiving, he realized it was true.

"You know what? I think I need to go on a diet," he said, with some surprise.

And then the words I didn't want to hear:

"Will you help me?"