When I was engaged, I remember serving a pair of  mafia girlfriends and their partners in my section.  “What is the difference between a girlfriend and a wife?” one woman  asked the table. The other woman replied, “twenty pounds!”  The couples laughed, ordered another bottle of Banfi, and finished off their night executing mini lap dances at table 46.  That really stayed with me for many reasons, and though I usually can’t remember jokes, I do remember that one.  Perhaps it was the c-note they tipped me, perhaps it was feminist outrage I felt, or horror at what I thought was coming.   Though today, when I thought to myself how I must have “slipped on my fat genes” when I married my husband (pun intended), I realized that I did increase my size, as well as my earnings, and my ability to relax when I got married. But after the children were born, fogettabout it.