Shopping...

Anyone that knows me...knows I HATE to shop.
Last Monday I went on the most dreaded shopping trip EVER.

I had to find me a new pair of jeans...dum,dum,dum...

Now, for a "200+" beauty, this is a day-of-reckoning.
The dressing rooms have harsh lighting to show all the purple veins in HiDefinition.
And there are FULL-LENGTH mirrors!
Sometimes there are more than one.
So, I go to the big-girl's store.
Lane Bryant
I start to look around, as I find the jeans, I see tags that are different colors, and definitely different numbers on those tags. Instead of seeing 16, 18, 20 etc.
I see 0, 2, 4, 6, etc.
You've GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!
So, forget indescreetly shopping and silently, without eye contact paying for the purchase.

I have to ask how the size charts go...

The sales clerk looks me over (as I cringe) and says "you will be a yellow 6".
Shur-nuf, she was correct.
"6" I was.
Now, you and I both know in the real world it's not a true "6", just a fat woman's "fantasy-land 6".
Looking at those jeans in that dressing room, on my short fat bod, was no scene for a "fantasy".
Oh well, it is what it is...

The day after the dreaded shopping trip...my sweet husband comes over to kiss me goodbye for the day, and says what he says most days of our marriage,
"My woman is so pretty. I got me a good looking woman."

Bless his heart.