Skinny little B*tch

I made my weekly pilgrimage to my shopping shrine, Savers. Loaded up on books and toys for the kid, then started looking for clothing for myself. Grabbed some pants that had some possibilities, as well as some nice sun dresses, then went to the dressing room to try everything on.

There, hanging on the hook to greet me were five super cute jeans: models of Joie, Von Dutch, the Gap, and a few others. All adorable. All for a size waist 29.

Now, whoever picked these items had a great eye, but I guess they didn’t have a small enough ass, because the pants were there, waiting for their clothing destiny. Knowing better, but hoping for divine intervention, I tried on the Von Dutch jeans. They didn’t even make it past my thigh.

Someone else is going to get these great jeans, I fumed, taking off the jeans. That lucky, skinny little bitch.

Yes, that bitch is lucky. I know from experience: that bitch used to be me.

Up until the point that I was 24, I was built like a rail, with no hips and very little chest action. Plus, I could eat whatever the hell I wanted with no consequences, thanks to the luck of the genetic pool.

I could also buy whatever I wanted. Clothes shopping was relatively painless. If I liked it, and it was in my size, more often than not it fit.

But now, at middle age and post baby, I have curves. I’m not overweight, I just have curves! And I can’t eat whatever I want any more. And clothes shopping is hard!

Appreciate your luck while you have it, because you never know when it’ll run out!