It was her turn to take care of her young son. And it was morning, time to soak his skin thoroughly in hot water in the shower, so that he would be very clean when he shaved. His son was crying. I could hear it but I wasn’t listening. The voice of self-criticism was louder. It said to make sure there wasn’t a hair out of place, not a lump of skin. He was frantic, a normal morning ritual for him.

His son cried louder. His diaper was soaked. He missed his bathroom time, so he had to get his diaper wet. The crying made him lose bladder control again and he was now drenched. He was so upset that he couldn’t walk. He crawled into the bathroom where Dad was. Dad played a game with him to keep him from crying.

The game was in the balance. John (a fictional character), had to be weighed. Another “normal” morning ritual. And evening ritual, all normal, of course. It never occurs to him that there is something wrong with this obsession. It is normal to look your best and be “healthy.” You need to weigh yourself twice a day, in case your weight is approaching an “unhealthy” level. He has just under 10% body fat, which he considers to be normal for bodybuilding athletes.

Only John is not an athlete. She works in an office and works out in the gym 1 hour a day, five days a week. He’s too exhausting to do more, but that’s also considered normal, as he does intense workouts, aided by his “healthy” shakes.

The same shakes your doctor recommended you stop. The same shakes the dietitian recommended that the doctor recommended told him to stop, at least for a while. the same shakes the allergy specialist told her contributed to her allergies. The shakes themselves, the alternate physician said, were affecting his health. Of course, they are all wrong; nosy nosy.

He is satisfied with himself. As his son plays the game of weighing with him, the crying stops. And it is 100g thinner. So eating fat-free foods is perfect. He is very happy with his new diet; two morning and evening smoothies, a low-fat sandwich for your companions to watch you eat at lunchtime, and the meat so well cooked on a rack that it oozes all its fat. He is delighted. The new diet is working.

Smiling happily at your child, your child responds with a smile. Dad notices it.

At this point, his ex-wife rings the doorbell. She picks up her son after the night visit, changes his diaper and feeds him in the car.

John is glad she’s pulled away. Now you can go to the gym and forget what she did to you. Like all women, she was a demanding useless who would abandon him. And she was fat too. That stupid doctor refused to send her to the dietitian because of her weight. The doctor had the wrong equipment. I couldn’t see how fat she was; disgusting.

His mother is always slim, a true beauty. He had a happy childhood, he was always taught not to show his feelings, he was encouraged to be the strongest, leanest and most muscular man in high school. His mother is the best. That counselor you saw lied and told you he had a bad childhood. Another useless stupid. His parents loved him very much. They sent him to the best schools, bought him the latest toys, gadgets, telephones, and computers. They were a happy family.

He dresses up and goes to the gym. Come home to shower. He never takes a shower in the gym. He weighs himself once more and then gets dressed to go see his parents. Happy times are ahead.