I have a good friend. She lives north of here. She speaks frankly. She drives my a Golf.

One time, not that long ago, she came to visit us. She does this. We all went to a liquor store to pick out something to go with dinner. This friend of mine, the one from up north, she said, “Hey, Matthew, look at THIS!”

And, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she held up a bottle of Fat Bastard Wine.

Now, if I were the doubt’s-benefit-giving-type, I would’ve said, “Oh, I get it, silly Name Redacted! We were looking for a Merlot, and here you’re suggesting a Chardonnay!”

But I knew what she was getting at. I mean, there’s no getting around it: in the few years since I’ve been married, I’ve gained a lot of…

WAIT!

She was talking about ME!

I’ll be back…