For over a month I have been on a very restrictive diet. I have not had a morsel of cheese. You can’t have pasta of any kind! The bread choices are not worth talking about. Most of my favorite vegetables are not on there AND no Irish Whiskey! If I see another rice cake I’m going to gag. Sometimes I feel like a cat with a hair ball just trying to get down the salads. Mind you, I love salads, just not with fat free dressing and devoid of nuts, beets, goat cheese, bacon, dried fruit or any tasty morsel to add interest and texture. I do like salads with fresh lemon . . . but . . . lemon is not allowed. Why no lemon, I don’t know, it’s not on the plan. If you put something on your daily food diary that is “not on the plan” you get a message from your personal cyber stalker. And the fear of the three time a week weigh in keeps you honest. I’m sticking to it, persevering and doing pretty well. So here I am, feeling kind of good about myself . . . till yesterday morning. We were getting ready to go out for a fathers day breakfast. My darling husband puts on a pair of pants that fit him not all that long ago. And what do I see? They are huge! Not just a little loose . . . huge. Now, I will acknowledge that he has been more active, doing projects outside and around the house, since he retired. But, I also do some of the work outside AND I go to the gym three times a week. Yes, he has had to put up with quite a number of my low calorie meals but I know he smuggles butter and salt into his food when I turn my back. The guy eats cheese, cookies, nuts, full fat salad dressing, pie, chocolate, pasta, rice, potatoes, really good bread and drinks both Irish Whiskey and Bourbon and HE looses weight. I ask you, is that fair?