Good morning ass and hello thighs,
I'd like to get dressed this morning in something cute, something that makes me appear somewhat proportionate. We're going to the Nats game tonight, so no to a dress or skirt. I know how much you love wearing maxis, Mr. and Mrs. Thighs, but never to a baseball game. I guess we're going to have to devise a plan for the jean shorts locked away in our closet. I know, I know -- I'm dreading this, too, but think about the sensational glory we'll feel rushing through us as adrenaline if we become victorious in the end. With our arms raised high above our head, we'd walk away triumphant, after the blood, sweat, and tears.
It's time, young Padawan.
The shorts stare me down. They know how capable they are of defeating me, us. Alright, breathe. I haven't eaten anything yet, so bloating should not be a problem. Ah, wait. I should pee since every ounce counts for the win, here.
Okay, we're back. As I huff and puff just looking at that itty bitty piece of denim, I begin to think that I should just retreat to a jar of Nutella. Fine, I won't. Let's do this booty. I start with putting both feet through, and then halting at the ankles. Phase one: achieved. Now, onto the real stuff. I grab onto the loopholes, and start shimmying my butt until the shorts sit right below my hips. FYI -- they're stuck. Son of a stitch. Phase two ain't a walk in the park people. I suck in, way in, stop breathing, and inch myself onto my tiptoes. And yank those damn shorts up my butt. Except they don't move. Great.
At this point, the seam has dug into my skin, and I'm perspiring just a little. I lie down on my bed, and curse you, butt head. I just want to be able to easily slide on a pair of cute shorts or jeans whenever I feel like it, but no, it has to be like a freaking Olympic event when I release the jorts. As I contemplate what else I have in my closet to wear, I start smiling to myself.
At the end of the day, this is just some comic relief to my hectic life. So what I struggle with putting on some Daisy Dukes? Who cares. I have my intelligence, my integrity, and my love for dogs. That's all that matters.
