You decide to take the size 60s. “I’m not that big yet,” you say out loud to no-one in particular, still not really believing that you’re even a size 60. “After all,” you continue, justifying this choice to yourself, “if I really do need the bigger ones, I can come back.” You drop your old 48s in a box marked ‘outgrown and discards’ and you return to the office where Ted is gourmandising off a fresh cartload of food.
As You waddle back to his chair, the scent of food makes you ravenous again, despite the enormous amount he’s already eaten. With the huge and comfy new jeans on, you feel like you have room to eat a horse, so you pile another two plates high with Singapore noodles, garlic chicken, beef and broccoli, breaded fishes, and pork in sauce and dig in. As you resume gorging the tiny waitress looks in and smiles broadly. “Food very good, yes?” she says, passing her hand over her tiny tummy as she looks straight at you. “Tell your friend to get new pants!” she adds, ducking out again.
Ted looks up from his empty plate and pulls at the waistband of his jeans. Digging his hand under his bloated little gut, he pulls at the button until it pops open. “There, that feels better!” he says. “Are there bigger jeans in there for me?” he asks you.
“Sure are,” you replies as you shovel in more food.
Ted gets up, his now-too-tight jeans mercilessly gripping his butt, and heads to the clothes closet. Inside, he looks around in amazement at the racks of clothing, neatly arranged by sizes. Directly in front of him is a section of size 56s, which he instinctively rejects. “I’m not that big,” he mutters to himself, turning to the left to find the smaller sizes. He’s been a 28 now for some time, but obviously he needs something bigger. He tries on a 30, and there’s hardly any improvement. 31 is hardly better, and 32 is still not comfortable. He finally decides on...