Cause I had a bad day…(thinking about) taking one down….

So we all want to lose weight, get into shape, eat better-right? Of course we do. But when your pants tell you to lose weight-it is clearly time to move into action.

Now the long and the short of it (or should I say the bad and the ugly) is this-MY PANTS BLEW OUT. Yeah-I know. The only thing I could add to make this story more embarrassing would be to say I was in a public place.

And you know I was. Target. South Hill. You may have saw me..or my underwear there. Embarassing I know. I don’t know if that is the worst part or the fact that as I walked out with my sweater around my waist and carrying my screaming and kicking three year old (to block the fact that I was wearing a tank top with NO bra-which five years ago, pre THREE kids would not have been such a bad thing) and he yells after asking me several times why we are leaving our cart full of unpaid for items behind and leaving “Mom if you pooped your pants you can just tell me that.” I almost wished I had-it’d be a lot less obvious and more likely than not warmer than the situation as hand.

Are you laughing? Good. Because I was too.

Now the nitty gritty-I bent over (taco shells=bottom shelf; I know-who buys taco shells at Target) and I heard a “rip”. Well I know it’s not my pants because that would make my pants too small. Which would make me too BIG for my pants. So I assume Cade ever so slyly (as he usually does) farted. Until I stood up. Instantly breeze on the ole behind. So I frantically turned my butt (conveniently) toward the refried beans as I reached around and much to my surprise was able to touch my pretty turquoise panties. On a side note this was a quick trip to Target-I was obviously not wearing my Sunday best. At this point the rip is I will guesstimate five inches long. I KNOW RIGHT?! So-I don’t panic. I am not shy. In fact I was laughing at myself. No big deal. I FINISH SHOPPING (if you know me-you know that I just don’t care). All is well.

As I proceed to check out Cade declares “Mom I have to go to the bathroom.” This is how the conversation went:

Fat girl-Cade can you please hold it, we will be home soon.
Cade-No Mom, I can’t.
Fat girl-Cade PLEASE just hold it, you will be fine, we are almost done.
Cade-Mom I can’t. I have to poop.
Fat girl-Ok, let’s go.

(Park cart at front of store, head to bathroom. Hole check-still five inches.)

I don’t do public restrooms. I just don’t. It has to be an emergency. And by emergency I mean I better be nine months pregnant with twins (I thought it was a dream) and my panties simply aren’t able to hold another piddle. So I strategically line the toilet seat with LOTS of toilet paper (Note to self and/or Target-toilet seat covers are a simple, cheap necessity-get with the program.)

(HOLE CHECK-Still five inches. Butt cheek feels a bit colder to the touch than five minutes prior.)

Now as he tears down his Thomas the Train underwear and is standing there (at attention if you will) waiting on me-I bend over..obviously not thinking….to pick him up. RIIIIIIIIIIIP. Now at first glance that looks like R.I.P. And in a way-it was. Rest in Peace Express jeans that no longer even have a backside to them.

I am facing Cade now staring at him in shock and trying to decide what my next course of action should be. He snaps at me “Mom, stop staring at me, can you turn around?” So I do. I am now in the corner. Yes-my three year old put me in the corner-holey pants and all. I mean have a heart little boy, have a heart! I decided that staying in the stall was not an option, especially since it now smelled terrible in there which was obviously at this point the least of my worries.

(Hole check-Eleven inches give or take. ¾ of one butt cheek-so a lot of butt-now exposed)

Cade-“Mom, I’m done.”
Fat girl-((RIIIIIIIIIIIP))

(Hole check-Seventeen inches-easily, ¾ of right thigh-in addition to ¾ of right butt cheek-now exposed)

Now some of you (if you even made it to this point in the story) are thinking did this really warrant a blog post? YES. In fact a select few of you (Nat, Liz, Cat) requested same. And you say ok fine-did it really warrant this LONG and descriptive of a blog post? YES. If I had just said “Hey guys, bad news, I’m fat, my pants ripped.” You probably would not have laughed. You probably would have felt bad for me. Don’t. I went straight home and ate a bag of Chips Ahoy. I KNOW RIGHT?!

So Cat and I had a brilliant idea to make sure that you understood the seriousness of this situation:






And FINALLY the moment you have ALL been waiting for (against my better judgment I have been persuaded to post this photo) so with all do embarassment, I provide you with the following days worth of laughter: