Not too long ago, a family that is near and dear to my heart said goodbye to their patriarch. He was good man that enriched the lives of everyone he met. He created a beautiful tight-knit family. While each member of the family had a touching story of their Pa, I couldn’t help but notice how each one of them is as selfless as he was, going into positions that teach, help, or guide all walks of life. They are an All-American family, one to be modeled after and he created that! What an wonderful legacy…what a wonderful man. I hope this story brings a little laughter to my friends who so badly need it. I love you guys!
In my best efforts to look nice for his celebration of life I pulled out a dress that I hadn’t worn in a while. Not remembering its size, I looked at the tag and looked down at my postpartum body (if I can still call it that because Henry just turned 1) and figured I’d give it a try. I zipped it up and was shocked that it wasn’t too bad! Then I turned around…holy hail damage! Shucks, my personality looked great in this dress. As I was just about to retire this dress for yet another event, I remembered I had a pare of suck’em-inners in my top drawer. With a twinge of excitement I twirled in my almost fitting dress all the way to my spanx.
As I was putting them on I was giddy with anticipation because they were tight around my calves, so I could only imagine what they were going to do for my thighs! I jumped and pull, did some deep knee bends, and ended with a move that closely resembles a person riding a horse. With a snap of the waistband I could barely breath, but marveled in the fact that it looked like my hail damage had finally got the touch up it needed.
As the day went on I was getting concerned about my tightly packaged franks. The amount of heat that was enclosed in my compression suit was causing pockets of sweat to pool in displeasing areas. I could feel my body swelling, as feet do on an airplane. I had to pee, but I couldn’t because I knew the moment I removed what was keeping my $#*% together, there would be NO stuffing it back in. The elasticity that the spanx once had was starting to give way making it official, the spanxs were walking off of the job. They began to roll up my legs causing questionable bulges and awkward looks while I was pulling them back down, and I looked for any opportunity to pull out the waistband so I could take a deep breath.
With many tears and a bit of laughter the day came to an end and I found my way home. As I peeled off the layers of clothing heat started to escape in plumes of steam. I tried to release myself from the grips of spandex but I couldn’t get the bastards off! That giddy feeling I once had turned into anxiety…as flashbacks of that young man’s face from G&L kept popping into my head. I started at the top and began to roll them down, cursing that last bag of Peanut Butter M&Ms I ate as the spandex took bits of flesh with it. I kicked them off of my foot and they fell into a wadded up ball on the floor. I thanked them for doing a half-assed job while glancing toward the mirror and happened to notice the aggressive red marks left by my hateful friends. I understand they had a tough job to do but what I don’t understand is the need to be so disgruntled about it. You know how they say you can count the rings on a tree to tell it’s age? Well, one could count the rings around my legs to see how many times those a-holes rode up on me. I shook my head questioning if the initial slim-down was worth the discomfort and for the umpteenth time in my adult life I decided my next diet would start the that following Monday.