Mirror, Mirror on the Dressing Room Wall...

... why can't you make my backside look small?


The good news: I have some new clothes for work and they fit.

The bad news: Someone had to make them out of more fabric ... a lot more fabric ... than I would like....

I know you imagine me sitting here typing this stuff glammed out in a slinky party dress, covered in bling from ear to wrist, sipping on a martini at a swanky cyber cafe (that's how I picture me) .... I pretty much wear sweats (sometimes 2 days in a row), my husband's t-shirt, and a hair scrunchie while quietly pecking away at the keys in our dark man cave praying my subtle movements don't stir the munchkin from the possible onset of a nap.

My hubby has come home from work on multiple occasions and asked, "Is that milk on your shirt/sweats?" I reply, "Why yes. It does appear to be milk," as I scratch my nail across the spot and give it a quick sniff. "I think it has been there since yesterday. And that sour milk spit-up smell ... that would be me, too .... also from yesterday. Let's make out!"

So, and here is the point of this little ditty ... accustomed to the sweats, I would have likely got up the morning I go back to work assuming that "by now" my normal low-waist work-casual slacks fit … only to have a melt-down of mass proportions in the closet floor. And if my bottom could speak ... English ... it would fervently cry "WHY? Why DKNY, Bisou, and Liz and co.? Why have you forsaken me?"

-Carmen