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Fun to be fat (for now)
Will I be fit enough to play football with my twins in the local park?

Siamack Salari
January 6, 2005
iranian.com

Thank goodness I am fat. At 15 months old, my twin sons delight in launching themselves at me, arms waving above their heads and throwing themselves over my stomach. After the initial attack, they try to take bites out of my midriff. Siavash will simply bite hard and hold for a second or two. This has the effect of making me scream in a comical high pitched voice which makes him laugh >>> Photos

Kourosh will also bite hard, but then try to tear a chunk out of me with teeth tightly clenched. This has the effect of making me scream in a low pitched voice and almost pee myself with pain which makes him giggle. Fortunately they have small mouths and I have a large stomach. Most times they cannot get a good-enough bite.

I know biting to be a bad habit in a toddlers (or anyone for that matter) and Varinder, my wife, will not tolerate it. If either twin bites her they are taken to a corner of the lounge and left there. Usually they understand this action to be a punishment and cry hysterically until we pick them up, kiss and hug them.

On the last occasion when I put Siavash into a corner (the monkey bit the joint of my index finger and I could have sworn I heard it crack) I turned back to see that I had accidentally placed him near his toys. He was happily playing with them and never realized he was being given what we call, 'time out' punishment. But I have never been a disciplinarian and never will be.

Another bad habit I have allowed Siavash to get into is poking my belly button. And I mean a really sharp, painful pokes with his index finger. I don't volunteer my belly button. He has learned to lift my shirt up and put his finger in. A little about my belly button: it is extremely hairy; it collects fluff and depending on how much I have exerted myself through the day will turn the fluff into a hard, damp lump.

The trouble is that I am sure Siavash has compacted at least a teaspoon full of fluff deep into my belly button over the past weeks. How do I remove it? With a knitting needle? With a fishing hook? Perhaps I should grow the nail on my little finger and fashion a compacted fluff removing tool from it.

Belly buttons aside, we are looking forward to our first proper holiday in many months. Last summer it was Northern Germany where despite the cool weather we had a fantastic time with our dear German friends. Next month we will return to the Royal Mirage in Dubai after four years. Only this time we will have the twins with us.

We have booked three seats on the flight (let the twins share one seat) and have organized a nanny to be with us most of each day and in particular the evenings to help with the boys. The idea is to lie on the beach and enjoy the sun; to watch the boys build sand castles and paddle in the clear waters; to watch them run butt naked shrieking and laughing. When you have kids, the act of watching them becomes a leisure activity in its own right.

When last in Dubai V and I were a couple with no kids and no savings. We were free and spontaneous. Now we have savings and we need military style organization just to leave our front door to feed the ducks. Everything takes twice as long and with the boys now able to do a faltering run, we find ourselves having to catch them first before we can dress them. I find myself breathless and covered in sweat by the time we are ready to leave.

Which leads me to reflect on the future: will I be fit enough to play football with them in the local park? Will they run circles around me and tease me as I try to shepherd them to the car to get home? Will their friends tease them for having a fat dad?

Back to now and Dubai. Varinder and I agreed that our New Year resolution would be to start a detox a diet. The day before the diet was due to start I gorged myself one last time on rice and Thai curry (made by me). Unfortunately I am still gorging myself because, somehow, I am trapped between my normal eating regime and the detox diet - which has yet to start.

The whole point of the diet was for me at least to look good for the beach in Dubai. But I am not vain. I don't care how I look and never have and never will. What is the point of having gorgeous girls flirt with you when you are married with twins? What is the point of having to buy a new wardrobe of clothes? What is the point of girls secretly asking you to rub lotion onto their bare backs on the beach? Perhaps I will start my detox diet after all >>> Photos

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