The hub and I have an important meeting that we have to attend on Friday. It's in Auburn, which is about four hours away from here, and we really want to make a good impression. So we went shopping last night for new clothes to wear. My wardrobe is bone thin, and I realized yesterday that I was wearing black pants that I have stopped wearing 20 pounds ago, so of course I needed new ones. I found a really nice pair really cheap ($5.40 to be exact) so I bought them and a cute top to match. When I tried them on at home I realized that I had lumps where lumps didn't used to be. Intrigued, I looked further into the issue and realized that the tops of my thighs have shrunk while my love handles haven't. It's funny because I never remember this being a problem when I was this size before. But then again, I was still in my teens when I was this size before, and my body is now 5 years older. And now I need a girdle. :o) It really doesn't bother me at all - I'll find one that's comfortable but smooths out my lovely lady lumps. (Somehow I don't think that's what Fergie was talking about...)
Jeremy found a pair of khakis that he liked and tried them on. I, of course, had to give them the final okay before the purchase, and I said, "Something looks funny" and he said, "I'm wearing them higher up like you're supposed to" See, he's been wearing his pants low, like around his hips because that's the way he always wore his pants. (I think because his hips are smaller than his stomach...) It didn't look bad like he had a beer gut or anything. Maybe that's just how guys wear them. But now that he's dressing like a grown up he's wearing them at his waist. And it looked old. I didn't tell him that he looked old, but I definitely thought it. But who am I to tell him how to wear his pants? All I can do is make sure he doesn't get pleats or something. He'll still look nice, but man, we're getting old! I thought that I was going to freak out when he got his minister's robe. He looked like a complete stranger. It's weird to see your husband in stuff like that. That's what old man preachers wear! :o)
We've always teased that we're much older than our actual age, and now we're dressing like it! Well, not me. I may be a bonified preacher's wife, but I refuse to dress like it. (now that sounds like I run around looking like a tramp. Really I don't. I'm too much of a prude, plus I don't think anyone really wants to see cellulite. But when you start handing out the orthopedic shoes and suits in colors that would make the Easter bunny blush and hair that has to be rolled in toilet paper - count me out) (Now I've just stereotyped my own kind in a parenthetical statement - oh the shame!!) Back to the point. I may wear a girdle but that's where I draw the line.
Now, with all the things that's wrong with the world, I chose to waste your time on my underwear. I hope that it at least made you giggle.
I hope you all have wonderful OP days!