Skinny Jeans

Every once in awhile I think to myself that I should try to get healthier.  Mostly when I'm trying to zip up my jeans.  (Because let's face it, when women say they want to be "healthier" what they really mean is "I want to fit into my skinny jeans.")

Of course the definition of "skinny jeans" varies from woman to woman.  There are always those annoying ladies who think a baby-occupied uterus is "fat" and who like to use their fingers as calipers to pinch little sections of skin on their arms and show you how fat they are.  And me, being the sympathetic type, I'm always like, "Oh my gosh, you have skin!!  The horror!"

Also, I eat brownies, which NO ONE ELSE SEEMS TO DO.

Seriously, a few months ago I met a bunch of neighborhood moms at the park and one of them brought brownies.  Delicious-looking, delectably frosted, mom-and-pop-bakery brownies.  One by one each of the ladies passed on the treat for one reason or another, including the woman who brought them.  I was trying very hard to be good because I had just pieced my diet wagon back together after burning it at the stake, so at first I passed on them as well.  Then everyone went back to chatting and I have no idea what they said because I was busy obsessing over the fact that there was an ENTIRE FREAKING PLATE OF BROWNIES on the picnic table.

I made it almost a half hour before I caved, which, all things considered, is pretty spectacular for me.  I didn't even try to sneak an extra brownie under the guise of "feeding it to my kids."  (Because I totally didn't think of that at the time!  Dang it!  Why do great ideas always come to me after the fact?)

But, I really do want to be healthier, and not just to wear the skinny jeans.  (And by skinny jeans I mean "smaller pants", not actual skinny jeans, because ewwww, no one wants to know me that well).

So, I guess it's off to find my wagon.

Too bad it's not hidden in a pan of brownies...