Tried on the bridesmaid’s dress for a friend’s wedding this summer. I didn’t fit into the smaller of the two sizes offered me, which has nothing to do with the fact that this morning when I took a bite of the English muffin my grandmother had prepared, melted butter squirted out and ran down my chin. But if I don’t watch it, the ease in the size I ordered is going to be eaten up. Literally.
We ate a sandwich in the car, then we went across the street for a powder room stop at Burger King. I ordered a water and two ice cream cones. Well, seeing as I only have two hands, I put the water in my purse and carried the cones in my hand. Genius? No. Bad, bad, bad idea. I’ve done it before with success, but not this time. By the time I was about to get into the car, most of the water was floating around in the bottom of my purse and soaking everything. A bit of a mess that.
Did I mention that only about two hours later my grandmother decided she wanted ice cream again? I hold the warm weather responsible. If she gains twenty pounds, my aunt is going to hold me responsible. And where is the justice in that? Am I the one that buttered the warm English muffin, or chose the second ice cream cone?
You are my witnesses. I mean, whose fault is it going to be if I gain twenty pounds?
Perspective my friends, perspective.
P.S. I came home and exercised. It seemed like a good idea. They were small ice cream cones, it is just the principle of the thing.