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.


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.


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.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: