... said Ben this morning as he popped onto the scales to see that he'd gained a kilo over the past week. But, as I explained to him, I was still a bit dazed. It was very early on a Saturday morning and I'd just woken up with a stonking headache (despite an alcohol-free January in a bid to be kind to my body after a rather enthusiastic consumption of red wine in the lead up to Christmas!)
"Sorry, Ben, I am thrilled and delighted," I said as I hugged his PJ-bottoms-clad physique, over the moon at feeling that lovely flesh on those bones. "Well done!"
Earlier this week Ben announced that such-and-such weight was the minimum healthy level for a young man of his age, build and height - and that he wasn't there just yet, but planned to get there very soon.
Compare this to previous years where he would insist that he was "fine as I am".
I love life without ED, the horrible eating disorder.
Oh, and Ben's just turned up at the door with 5 or 6 of his Warhammer friends again for a day's table-top gaming.