Lately, I've been working on my
fat ass girly figure since I can no longer blame the extra twenty twenty pounds I've been carrying around as 'baby weight'. The 'baby' is over three years old.
So I tried on a pair of pants this morning that I've been hoarding in my closet for a few months (years) and I modeled them for two of my neighbors who insisted not only did the fit well, they made my butt look "AH Mazing!" (Exact words there, people.) They did add that a nice 'flowing shirt' would 'soften the waistline' which I think means 'hide your muffin top'.
When Steve got home, I
squeezed slid back into them to show him my minor achievement. His reaction? A sly smirk and then, "Those neighbors aren't your friends."
But don't worry, I played dumb when he insisted that our gas bill was low because I had turned off the AC most of the month. I suggested he call my father (Mr. HVAC) for clarification.
Touche, Mr. Dorkfish.