The Big Dude and Mini-Me

There's this guy at my gym that the dear boy and I refer to as "The Big Dude." Funny thing is, if we say this in front of anyone else who goes to this gym, they know who we mean. He's built like an aging linebacker. He always has a weight belt on and usually a chain around his waist with some ridiculous weight attached to it. He is usually found either yelling to encourage whomever he's working out with or grunting loudly so that everyone will turn and see how strong he is.

The Big Dude is usually found with a guy we call "Mini Me." Mini-Me is about 15 years younger than The Big Dude. He's one of those short, thick gym rat types. He's about 5'7" with buzzed, over-gelled hair and ridiculously large arm muscles. The kind that keep you from putting your arms all the way down at your sides. Mini-Me doesn't talk much, he just lifts too much weight while The Big Dude yells at him.

This entire world-view was called into question this week. The Big Dude has a distinctive head full of tight curly hair, a long face and a particularly weak chin. Tuesday night, I spotted a young man on the other side of the workout floor. It was as though The Big Dude of the past had time travelled to today. Same curly hair, same weak chin, but about 25 years younger. I jokingly told the husband, "Look, it's a real Mini-Me for The Big Dude." We laughed from several minutes and then moved on.

15 minutes later, there was The Big Dude. There was Mini-Me. And up walked The Big Dude of the Past. He really is The Big Dude's son. Now what do we do? How can Mini-Me be Mini-Me if there's an actual smaller copy out there?

For now we're calling them The Big Dude, Mini-Me and The Real Mini-Me, but we're taking suggestions.