Yes, yes, yes, I was going to lose twenty pounds before the wedding and no, no, no I didn't.
I am not wanting to do this. I don't remember ever needing such a fancy dress since the day I said I do. Not that I don't want the dress or to look lovely on my baby girl's day - it's the process of finding the dress when gravity and chocolate have been living here for soooo long.
I just don't understand why they put fluorescent lighting in dressing rooms. Why would a woman buy anything if it looks like her thighs were hit by a meteor shower?
- quick, name that movie.
And I wish we were only talking about thighs here.
Yep, we women who know better and know our worth is not in our looks and teach our children to believe in themselves no matter what the mirror says are the same women who can't take our clothes off in the dressing room. 'Cause we all have our most hated body part, right?
Where did the captain hide his armies?
In his sleevies.
And the conversation with my girls goes something like this -
No, not that one.
No, not that one.
I can't wear that.
Really??
Seriously??
Look at these arms. Seriously?
You know I'm not gonna wear that, don't you?
But they still manage to drag me into the dressing room with more choices than my armies can carry.
So, here I am. In the dressing room with my daughter-bride.
Mama, you don't have the right bra or the right underwear on. It'll look better when you put some spanx on.
Spanx? Who said anything about spanx?
Then she walks over and grabs the top of my bra straps and pulls up - way, way up.
See, you need some lift and then some spanx to suck it all in.
Time to high-tail it out of there.
Nope, didn't buy the mother of the bride gown that night.
Nope, didn't buy the mother of the bride gown that night.
