Wearin'-the-Normal-Size-Pants Dance

That's right, uh-huh, wearing those pants and doing that dance. Week after week I wondered, should I just break down and buy new pants? Will I be wearing elastic waist pants and maternity pants for the rest of my lonely life? Will I have to give my wardrobe away and dress in canvas sacks? But no. This week I tried on my capris that I was no where near pulling closed a few weeks ago, and now I can BUTTON THE BUTTON AND EVERYTHING.

Okay, they're a leetle bit tight, but so much the better. Right? Am I right? Hm, maybe not, but let's pretend that I am, just for a minute, so I can continue to do the dance. It is such a lovely dance.

Overheard conversation between my husband and three-year-old son:

Dean: Who's the tallest in our family?

Max: Papa.

Dean: That's right. Who's the smallest?

Max: Baby Maggie.

Dean: Uh-huh. Who's the widest?

Max: Mama!

Dean: Good boy.

Such a dear. I'd smack him, only I know he's proud of my wide-ness. Gotta love that kind of a man.