I am not a gal that needs to wear a "Wide Load" banner, but I AM built to birth babies and enjoy burgers, and therefore will never be in a bikini or able to wear cute trendy clothes. I was not created to be a "looker" or "hot" or, and more appropriate for my age, "attractive". I was created to be smart, practical, and awkwardly funny. I am completely fine with my purpose and my looks.
And I am usually comfortable with myself..my shape.
Except when my hips become a hazard.
Today, I wore some new work pants that I bought before I gained my extra-happy-holidays-10-extra-pounds. I stuffed myself in them and hoped my sweater would cover any 'over-proofing'. The pants are flannel lined so I didn't notice any constriction that would announce, "hey, Alice, you might have a -poured into these pants- look going on, which you cannot pull off".
Late into my morning, I noticed a small quarter-size pain on my hip at the top of my thigh. I continued to work and subconsciously rubbed the area on occasion. Then, while standing at the printer, I once again subconsciously ran my fingers across the area and then pushed on the spot. My fingers felt a round solid form that was hard. Instantly my posture straightened and I stared straight ahead.
A tumor. This is it. I am going to lose my leg and possibly my life.
I walked slowly into the bathroom, preparing myself to face the fact that this lump was the beginning of the end.
'Well , at least I saw my sons grow into young men.'
I faced the bathroom mirror.
'Oh man, Jeff should have upped my life insurance when he upped his.'
I unzipped my pants.
'Hmmm, I wonder if I could get a prosthetic leg-weapon, like the girl in The Kingsmen?'
I lowered the left side to see my hip.
'Funny, I thought a migraine would be the end of me.'
I looked down at my hip.
There was a spare button sewn into the seam of the flannel lining and its perfect mold in my hip!
I stuffed my fluffy body back into the pants and, as I zipped and BUTTONED back up, I wondered if anyone heard me 'LOL' at myself in the bathroom.
I walked back to my office and grabbed some scissors, in preparation to go back and remove the offending quarter-size firm solid button from the seam. I attempted to interrupt my co-worker's focus, "there is an extra button in my pants and I thought I was terminal".
He mumbled, without looking up, "huh?"
I smiled to myself and thought, 'yeah, nobody is going to find this as funny as I do'.
.....and that is why I have a blog (for my own entertainment)