Let's say, purely hypothetically, that you had gone to Target to buy a new scale. But, being a man and all, you let it sit in the bag in the hallway while you started preparing to hang Christmas lights outside. This because you had to hang the Christmas lights during the daytime so you could see what you were doing, whereas you could open the scale box anytime due to the magic (magic!) of indoor lighting. But also because a new scale isn't all that exciting. It's not like a new lawn tractor, or a new 18V lithium-ion drill, or even like a new 6-pack of beer. It's just a scale.
But, you live with a woman. To a woman, a new scale is as exciting as diamond pendant earrings, or a surprise getaway to Paris, or an unopened pint of Häagen-Daz and a pair of sweat pants. That is to say, it is simply irresistible.
So, let's say, again purely hypothetically, your The Mrs. tears into the box with the kind of enthusiasm normally reserved for Christmas morning little blue boxes with red ribbons that say "Tiffany & Co." and sets up the scale in the downstairs bathroom. When you come wandering by, she is standing on the floor staring at the scale. She says, "It seems a little low."
You step on, note that it is exactly what you though you weighed, and step off. Then you say to your The Mrs., "Hmmm...You get on it again."
So she does.
Then you look at it and say, "Yup. You're right. It does read low."
That would be Something Not to Do. ™
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