We were at the park with another couple and a total of 4 kids playing havoc.  The kids were doing this thing where they would put their belly’s on the swing and go face-down “superman style.”  My lovely wife commented that she used to do that as a kid, but she tried it as an adult and it was crushing.  Aimee was sympathizing with my wife’s troubles and I explained that it’s really a completely explainable thing… If the size of something doubles then it doubles in all 3 dimensions so it’s volume (and therefore it’s mass) is increased 8 TIMES.  Everyone kind of nodded in patient understanding of my nerd-dom, thankful that I didn’t go on to explain how strong ants were and why flying birds can only get so big… and them Aim said

“Did you just call me FAT?”

Split second of trapped man brain panic followed almost immediately by a deadpan “No, I called you PROPORTIONATE.”  This was perfect because a) it was true, and b) it was vaguely complimentary.  Though not quite a compliment it’s opposite DISproportionate is definitely an insult.

I basked in my Hudini like verbal skills to escape the trap when she caught me flat footed with: “Yeah, EIGHT TIMES as proportionate.”

Touche’ madam.  Touche’


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