She’s not weighed in for a while now but she has been a total pig! She’s demanded so much junk food from the shop, I’m back and forth every day with carrier bags full of chocolate, popcorn, ice cream and cheesecakes. She’s been ordering pizzas, Indian meals, kebabs and I’ve picked up McDonald’s breakfast for her 3 times a week for the past few weeks. She’s had terrible indigestion, every day I come home and find her laying on the sofa in pain with her belly hanging out of her jeggings. A pile of empty plates, pots and  wrappers giving away the quantities of food in her belly.

She told me recently that she can’t stop herself from pigging out. Her belly aches with hunger all day and she has to cram in food until she’s uncomfortable just to feel better. She eats extra to make me happy and keeps getting her belly out in front of me to get my attention. She flops it out, tells me how much she ate and how she feels breathless or sick, I don’t have any reason to doubt her, I’m buying it and she’s putting it away along with litres of Pepsi and packets of anti acids.

Her stomach has never looked so big or round and she’s finding it hard to fit it into anything less than a size 22 now. I’d love to measure it but she won’t let me. Last time I got a tape measure around her it was 47” and she’s gained a good 2 stone since then. Maybe 3. After a big meal she can’t walk withoutt arching her back like a pregnant woman. She gets breathless on stairs and can’t walk more than a few feet without getting sweaty and wanting to sit down.

A few days ago I came home midday on a Saturday, she had put away two oven pizzas, some corner yogurts and some chocolate. I messaged her stomach as she sat at the table and she told me it was as full as she could get it. Then I called out to the kids that we were all going for ice cream. Her eyes widened with shock then anger. I took all of us to the ice cream parlour and she couldn’t resist ordering a waffle. She ate almost all of it, leaving one quarter and almost throwing up at the table. She insisted she was too full and I had to help her out of the booth and back to the car. I asked them to box up the remaining quarter. When we got home she sat at the table and her waistband was giving her swollen middle a double belly. I gently lowered her jeggings and placed the leftovers in front of her and a fork in her hand. She said no. I held her fat belly in one hand and whispered in her ear ‘I want a FAT wife’. She groaned, forced in the last few mouthfuls then leaned back while I rubbed her bloated stomach.