The beaches of northern and central Florida are family-friendly--something I forgot to remark upon in this post, but noted while I was there. To their great and eternal credit, however, these beaches seem to attract the kind of fathers who are... ...skinny.
To say that such sights gave me hope is to admit vanity, I know, but what can I say? Who knew that fatherhood did not have to mean beer bellies and pear shapes? Ha ha. The dads I personally know, except, possibly, my own late father, are not skinny. Have you seen recent pictures of the former Mr. Britney Spears? I'm sorry, but they are mortifying. Hi hi.
Thankfully, there are guys like Mr. Julia Roberts, who is 42, and my new personal hero. One may have to give up food altogether to stay in a shape like that, but still. Old dudes like me can dare to hope--especially after two 3-hour walks appear to have melted off a visible amount of weight. Hi hi.
(P.S. Aside: According to a news story somewhere, some marriage contracts in France literally contain weight limits for both husband and wife. I don't know what happens if those limits are exceeded.)
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