Worthy Witness

“Jack Sprat could eat no fat, his wife could eat no lean.”  Marcia told me that when she looked into the revealing mirror, she felt the first stanza of the child’s limerick was invisibly written across her forehead.

“It wasn’t always this way,” she mused, “I think it was the invention of elastic waist jeans.”  She shared years past when the tables were turned, continuing in her soft voice, “After he retired from the Army, John gave up his five-mile run.  He did not, though, give up the overflowing plates of Chinese food with double desserts at the ‘Oriental Buffet;’ I preferred the shrimp dishes and jello desserts.  It wasn’t long before he was loosening his belt, buying new pants and packing away the uniform he loved, a bystander to the parade.”

“So how is John now?” I asked.  “He’s like a teenager,” she said, “weighs himself every day, goes to the gym, and counts calories.”

She went on and talked about her retirement.  “Early, without warning”, she said, “I woke up one day and thought, I’m not going to work and began to sleep in.”  Continuing, she told me she  gave up her gym membership and took to gardening.  “That made me very hungry, so I began to freeze Snickers for a snack.”  It was menopause that had bought her to my office.  “It,” she said, “the menopause, was the end of the old me.”

In our session we talked about the day-long cravings for chocolate, the thickening waistline, the drooping bustline; the flashing, intolerable heat.  We discussed her feelings for John.  “It seemed,” she said, “as I started to crave more food, he desired it less.  As my stomach and thighs expanded, his contracted.”

Trying to get to the crux of the problem before the sand ran out of the glass, I asked if she remembered the second stanza of her little limerick.  “So betwixt the two of them, they licked the platter clean.”

“That’s it,” she brightened, “limericks always have a moral; an answer to life’s mysteries.   I have to cook less; use smaller plates and never, never, put the platter on the table.”   “Ah,” I breathed, “another client finds the answer within.”