Three grapes

Mom: So?
A.: Everything's fine.
Mom: So what rate are you getting?
A.: The same rate I've told you I'd be getting every other time you've asked.

I grab three grapes on my way to the other room. My mother looks at my stomach and nods disapprovingly.

Mom: You need to eat less.
A.: [Shrug]
Mom: Your figure has worsened.
A.: [Shrug]
Mom: Alternatively, you need to start dressing in accordance with your newly worsened figure.
A.: [Shrug]