I’ve been spared the agony of frequently checking my non-existent weight loss on our bathroom scale.
Shortly after we received it, the twins learned to stand and jump. They decided the scale was a trampoline. They would jump on it and off it, delighting in the spinning red needle.
I figured the bouncing would affect the scale’s measurement, but it’s number was always within a pound or two of the doctor’s. So I couldn’t even give myself that leeway.
Eventually the plastic cover over the dial cracked, then broke away. But it was months before the kids started playing with the needle. One day I noticed the needle was a little below zero. I stepped on it and it spun to its usual spot. sigh. No loss. Not even the difference between the zero and the needle’s resting spot.
The next day, the needle was stuck pointing to 120. I figured I needed to adjust the setting and move it back to zero. I didn’t do it. My husband saw it and tried to fix it. He worked the dial, but couldn’t get the needle to move anywhere near zero. He stepped on. The needle moved up thirty pounds. He hasn’t weighed thirty pounds since he was a year old.
So the scale is broken with the needle lodged at sixty. It’s still in the bathroom next to the toilet. But I’m relieved. I don’t have to step on it and be disappointed anymore.