My jeans, which I'd worn all day in a good faith effort to avoid looking like a complete slob, were beginning to annoy me.
Eh...it's after 4pm. That's close enough to bedtime. Here I come, pajamas!
"I'm gonna run upstairs and put on my jammie-pants."
"Okay," Nick said from the kitchen.
You are my jammies.
My only jammies.
You make me happyyyyy
When jeans are tight.
Yes, in case you're wondering, I do sing to myself. (I frequently make up my own words, just to keep things interesting.) Trust me....you should be thankful that most of my singing is in my head. You're life is better because of it.
Aaanyway.....I breathed a huge sigh of relief as I pulled on the beloved pajamas. I got them about 9 years ago from Old Navy. The red color is quite faded by now and there are pictures of ice skates all over. The ice skates mock me...coordination and balance are not my friends, therefore ice skating is downright impossible. The fabric is super soft and crazy stretchy. Seriously? Stretchy, as in, the Octo-Mom would have been perfectly comfortable in them....WHILE she was pregnant.
I came back downstairs and walked into the kitchen.
"I looooove these pants. If I ever beefed up to 400 pounds....."
"I'd kick ya out the door!" He pointed to the door, in case I'd forgotten just where it's located.
"Oh yeah! What would YOU do if I blew up to 400 pounds?" He put his hand on his hip and waited for an answer.
So I sang, "Hit the road, Jack."
"Exactly! So don't act so shocked!"
I resumed my singing. "Hit the road, Jack. And don'tcha come back til you're thin thin thin thin thin thin thin......"
Apparently, improv karaoke is my talent. It could be worse. I could be known as the lady who can arm-fart the alphabet.
"Really though....look at these pants! I could TOTALLY grow a couple more guts and STILL fit into them!"
He walked away.