One black “I

One of my co-workers, Kiko, recently went to Hong Kong and bought shirts for co-workers as gifts. He asked me what my shirt size was and I told him I’m either a Medium or (more likely) Large. Kiko said he doesn’t have any medium-sized shirts anymore and suggested I try one of the small ones.

“As much as I like to believe otherwise, Kek,” I told him, “I’m no longer ‘small’. It’s sad how my old shirts no longer fit me.”

About two years ago, Kiko shared the apartment with me and knew how big (or small) my shirts were. There was a time before that when I could even fit into an extra-small. I tried one of the large shirts Kiko has, and it fits just right. A large shirt.

“Worse is how I can’t fit in some of my pants now.”

“I could relate to that,” he told me. If one looks at our photos from four or five years ago, it’s hard to believe how skinny we were not long ago.