You already have my life history and two copies of my social security number and my wedding license and now you want to know my weight?

Getting a driver's license in a new state is a hassle, but my most recent move really took the cake! (Watch out for those food expressions, folks! Now I want cake. Chocolate.)

To shorten a terribly long and boring story, it took me three trips to the BMV to get my driving license and register my car.  On the third trip I finally got to the step of taking the written test for the driving license. The first question had to do with the stopping distance of trucks!  I was sure I was going to fail, but the rest of them were quite a bit easier. (I looked up the stopping distance of trucks later and found out I actually answered it right.)

My first driver's test was in this kind of car, 1962 Chevrolet Bel Air.
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In our state, you don't find out your score. It's simply Pass/Fail.  Fortunately, I passed, thus saving a fourth trip.  Then came the dreaded 'mug shot' picture, and the question that would have been even more dreaded if I had not forgotten that they ask it.

So there I am, sitting next to my husband, and they ask the question.

How much do you weigh?

While I know what I look like, I have avoided giving my husband a specific number. I really did not want him to know the exact number, which incidentally is about 40 pounds more than he weighs.  I thought briefly of lying, but really?  Is it worth it to lie?  Besides, the shape of my body gives evidence of the lie, though I could have gotten away with ten pounds or so I suppose.

So now he knows. 

And you know what?  He has not said one word.  Not. one. word.  The shame is all in my head.