Have I mentioned that I’ve gained a few pounds? I blame hubby for this. He is losing weight and I keep finding it. I do not begrudge him for losing weight he needed to lose. In fact, he’s looking mighty fine 😉  these days. What I don’t understand is why he can’t lose weight at work. But that’s not what I’m here to rant about today.

I was getting dressed a couple of weeks ago, and I had to wear something nice to show up for jury duty. No problem – I had a nice pair of black pants to wear. These pants, that used to slide gracefully over my thighs and hips, stopped at my knees. It took some tugging (and cursing), but they finally made it up to (what used to be) my waistline.

The bigger problem was the zipper. It could not and would not close.

I tore through my closet in search of a top long enough to cover my crotch. No tunic length shirts or sweaters anymore.  Must have given them to Good Will or somewhere.  I had 2 options:

1. I could wear jeans anyway (they were tight, but the fly stayed closed)
2. I could wear my “old-lady” pants with the elastic waist and no pockets. The tunic top would have come in handy to disguise them as normal pants, but they still had no pockets. I HATE not having pockets in my pants. Where do you put your Id? Your lunch money?

Lunch money. My brain switches gears back to High School. I was robbed of my lunch money by an unseen thief. She, I assumed it was a she because it happened in the girls bathroom, suddenly reached under the door, into my stall, and snatched my lunch money right off the top of my books. Literally caught with my pants down. Just one of many humiliations I suffered in High School.

High School. Switching gears again. A memory of my mom telling me about when she was in High School. It was the early 50’s and it was poodle skirts, crinolines (ask your grandma), and tight jeans. “So tight in fact”, she confessed to me, “that I had to lie down on my bed to zip them up”.

Her wisdom lives on, and she thought us girls never listened to her. 😉   Thanks Mom!!

It worked. Black pants zipped up and button closed.  Who knew that gravity could be my friend?

Being me, instead of feeling triumphant, I start worrying that the pressure put on the zipper by my flab would break it. I would have to pee at some point, which meant using the straining zipper. How would I get my fly closed again without my bed?

Did the zipper hold?  Amazingly it did. Even with peeing, it still worked. But not once, during the entire day, did my pants ever become comfortable. Ever.

Sooo, I’m working to lose the weight my hubby gave me. I don’t know how many pounds I gained because my denial reflex has not allowed me to get on the scale. It’s funny how it takes me three times longer to lose what he lost and I found.

Actually, it’s not  funny when I think about it.

Is there a moral to this story? Many of them, actually. Pick one  🙂