Monday, May 13, 2013


My husband is a smart man. Very smart. His mind works quickly and sharply. He can fix just about anything, he's creative, insanely talented, and he can make me laugh in a millisecond. My god, you should have seen his gay German airline attendant impersonation yesterday... Let's just say my post-baby bladder did not react kindly.

So, when he told me, for Mother's Day, to go to Lululemon and buy myself whatever I "needed", I was temporarily blinded by his blaring stupidity. So much so that I had to make sure I had correctly heard his proposal. I checked, then re-checked, then wiggled my index finger into an ear drum to loosen what surely was blocked by a pound of earwax, then checked again. And sure enough, there I was, given a free pass to make several deposits into a very, very dangerous account.

Dangerous, I say, because I am completely ruined to regular workout clothes now. I want absolutely nothing to do with them. You should know, I had only previously coveted the over-priced gym duds from afar, standing in line for spin class and jealously scowling at all the brightly clothed women who emulated a flock of exotic birds while I impersonated a sad, dull, gray pigeon, thinking, "Someday... Someday."
So, when I slid the first pair of obnoxiously hot pink pants up over my calves, thighs, then rear, then watched doves appear and fly out of my fitting room as trumpets sounded, I knew I was destroyed. Blinking in disbelief, I stood there, ran my fingers over what felt like a second layer of skin, fell madly in love, and instantly knew Troy had made a HUGE mistake. I spent over four hundred dollars on five, just five, items of delicious, glorious, living, breathing clothing and have been battling the pounding urge to get in my car and head straight back since. This morning, it took everything in my power not to respond to the kind, 'hello-how-was-your-weekend's' from fellow gym-goers with a "LULULEMON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'M A FREAKING PEACOCK!"
I drank the Kool-Aid and I can't fucking wait to burn off the calories in these magnificent florescent pants.

1 comment:

  1. You're insane.

    I love you.

    I'M A PEACOCK!!!

    And you wonder where Avery gets her silliness...