This week we were taking about the new gym, debating the merits of getting out of bed at 5:30 a.m. to take advantage of two exercise classes, when Stan said Sana's taking this weight loss thing way too far.
We said, "Stan, we did Christmas."
Stan said, "He's still walking on that treadmill and he's lost so much weight his legs look like sticks. His pants are flapping in the wind."
We rolled our eyes.
But it's true. We were driving up 110th Street Saturday morning and there was Santa up on the roof of that building still walking like a mad dog on that treadmill. And he was so skinny his clothes were flapping in the wind.
