A few weeks ago, Parker ran into the office, and proudly proclaimed “Hey Short stuff” to which I almost spewed my coffee out at and had to catch my breath from laughing so hard. I know he said it because people call him that, but it was funny that he called me short stuff. Because, well, I am short. Stuff. I guess.
Anyways, yesterday we went ‘a jean shopping. I hate, loathe, jean shopping. Well any shopping really, but jean shopping is up there with doctor/dentist appointments. You see – I can NEVER find jeans that fit me…without looking like something that should belong on a little old lady, or a midget (no offense to either).
Don’t get me wrong, I love new jeans, but shopping for them, eh, not so much.
I searched the tag of my last jeans for an accurate size, and went prepared. The only problem was the size I needed – only had about, oh, four pairs of jeans in it. Which made me mad. Because ½ of them had holes in them (I can put my own holes in tyvm) and the other ½ well, they weren’t the right length.
Some of these jeans are there, I am sure, because they don’t actually FIT any human being.
After finding a pair that would work “Ok” I headed for the fitting room to discover that I had accidentally snagged a pair that was suppose to be, a size too small – and they fit – I burst out of the fitting room saying something about the size, confusing everyone there, and then informed them that the size that NOW fit – had more options in it.
Gah.
Even though the size had more options, there still weren’t any that were the right LENGTH and size.
And I KNOW for SURE that no one is my size in this town. Or maybe they are. But they are younger.
Ahem.
My mom pulled a pair up, and I shook my head. No. No. No. I was not going to wear those.
Jean shopping is worse than shoe shopping.
Shopping is bad.
But jean shopping is really bad. I said that already, didn’t I?
Just as I found a pair, Amanda bust around the corner carrying a pair of “Knee highs. Exclaiming happily “Heres a pair that will fit you!” I looked them up and down. The sad part is, they wouldn’t have been knee highs on me.
They would have been high-waters.
And that’s not exactly the look Im going through either.
Tangled Thoughts 