Saturday, January 3, 2009

Jeans

Today Hubby had a brilliant idea of going out to eat for lunch. We decided to head to Red Robin (a family favorite) located at our mall. I got dressed in some jeans and a sweater, and we all piled into the car. My jeans felt a little tight, but I had just laundered them and assured myself that they would stretch.

Half-way through lunch I realized the only thing stretching was my stomach, spilling over the top of my belt loops. I casually suggested we stroll around for a bit afterward to walk-off our food. However, even as we walked my jeans still felt too tight. Here and there I would discretely check out my rear end in the store windows to make sure my pants weren't giving me a wedgie (I certainly felt some "creeping fabric" back there).

On the way home I mentioned to Hubby that I needed to lose some weight this year. I was met with an approving nod and a comment: "I think I've slimmed down quite a bit recently." I told him that I was happy for him and that I too would like to "slim down". He quickly agreed (a little too quickly, if you ask me) and continued on with a lecture reprimanding me for eating sweets and treats, and explaining that I needed to cut back on certain "unnecessary foods".

I gave him a piece of my mind and told him that I didn't ask for his critique or criticisms, nor did I appreciate his attitude toward my recent weight discovery. I pointed my finger in his face and dared him to say one more word! He just raised his eyebrows at me, apologized for getting in the way, and slunk down behind the steering wheel. I know that I've gained weight, and I'm positive over the past year he's noticed it too, but he doesn't need to point out the obvious, or agree with me about it! A simple "you always look great, babe" would have been nice. Sheesh, is that too much to ask for?

As soon as I got home I ran for my closet and ripped my stretchable sweatpants off their hanger. I hurriedly stripped and pulled them on. I had never felt more relief from my elastic pants than at that moment. I folded the jeans on my bed and vowed to lose enough weight that I would no longer need to blame the dryer for the tightness of my britches.