Mission Impossible

Well, I finally did it.

Today, I tried to fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans.

I was hopeful at first. Everyone I see comments on how I lost my pregnancy weight so fast. So I figured hey, it's been two months. Time to break out the old wardrobe. I can do this. Piece of cake.

So I lay them out on the bed and eyeball them. Never before had they looked so tiny.

Alright, I say to myself. Let's do this.

Feet go in. Pause. I grab the waist of those sons of bitchs and begin the shimmy dance.

You all know the shimmy dance, don't you? The side to side wiggle as you inch those bastards up your legs? You know.

I hit the thighs. Pause. Deep breath.

Shimmy, shimmy.

Pause.

What the hell?

SHIMMY SHIMMY SHIMMY.

I-shimmy-can-shimmy-do-shimmyshimmy-THIS!

Pant, pant.

Yank-shimmy-pull-yank-shimmyshimmyshimmy.

And they're up.

Ha! Victory is mine! screams the voice of Stewie Griffin in my brain.

Uh oh. I have to button these bastards, don't I?

Pause. Stare. Firmly grasp both sides and pull. Pull.

Pull, woman, pull! Suck it in! SUCK IT IN!

Pant, pant.

Faintly realize that your hips are just not the same size as they were and probably never will be again. One last futile tug.

Sigh. Admit defeat.

Shimmy dance in reverse.

Grumble to self as you put your Fatty McFatass sweatpants back on.

Plan depressing shopping trip tomorrow as you ponder the trauma of trying to figure out what the hell jeans size you wear now.

File this away in the "No one told me this part" portion of your brain.

Sigh.