This is a bit beginning... just testing to see what my readers think so far...
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"I can't do it."

These words from the lips of my dear husband of sixteen years was too much. If he couldn't do something, life as we knew it was about to end.

"Why? What's the matter?"

He lowered his gaze and mumbled, "I'm too fat."

I stifled the chuckle threatening to erupt from my mouth. His waistline was thicker than it had been in his entire life, but I refused to mention it. I still loved him anyway. "Now honey, surely you can't mean that."

He shrugs. "Yes, I do. The place where the hot water tank is located is too tight for me to fit in there. The door to the pilot light is in the wrong place and a person would have to stand on his head to be able to get to it."

I gaped at him.

"And it ain't me, like I said, I am too fat."

"Well," I suggested. "Suppose I try?"

He nodded and led the way. Once we arrived on the second floor of our house, I found the situation far worse for me than for him.

"It's in the closet," I said.
"Um hm. And if you go in there, you'll see what I'm talking about."
"I don't need to see," I answered, backing away. "There's spiders in there, or my name is not Nancy."

He let his gaze move around the room, and I knew what he was thinking.

"Better call the city to come light the pilot," I told him. "This is impossible."

He nodded and we trudged back downstairs.

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