For the past 25 years or so, my waistline has been expanding, slowly but surely, at a steady but depressing rate. You'd never really notice from month to month, but the progress is there, never slowing down, never speeding up, inexorable. It's sort of like a glacier, except made out of fat.

I started out my adult life thin as a rail, so skinny that I had to use a hammer and nail to put extra holes in new belts just to keep from inadvertently mooning people. But each year since marriage ...

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