My Gigantic Ass

There’s a few things I could talk about today. Like how thankful I am that my husband didn’t leave me during my dental surgery recovery. Ok, here’s the thing. Not being able to eat was an irritation but not being able to use a straw was the kiss of death. I said 389 time “just shoot me and put me out of my misery.” On my 390th whine, Bobby agreed that would be best for everyone. I’m kidding. I’m kidding.  He was sweet and bit his lip a lot.

 

Or I could gush about the best weekend I had in years. I was sorta hesitant the week leading up to the trip because (A) I was still recovering from surgery and (B) felt kinda guilty about not taking Nicholas. But it was one of my best friend’s wedding and to be blunt, I wanted the option of drinking. Maybe once every 3 years I get the hankering to drink. Of course I didn’t, just needed the option. And (c) I felt a little weird that I didn’t know any of the other wedding attendants. What if they ridiculed and hated me? And of course, as it turned out they were awesome. And the only one who mocked me was David but I guess its his right. (yes you did, first intro, even before we finished hugging our hellos, “Ask Claire what her major was?”) But there’s some sick comfort in knowing he still has the timing down after all these years.

 

But seriously, it was a fabulous weekend because it passed the house test. Bobby and I usually sigh with comfort as we enter our home after a weekend away, not so much this weekend. We both agreed that two more days in Seattle would have been better. So I thank Nick and David for including me on their special day. and we’ll visit more often because now I got stuff to bribe Bobby with. Like we could go sailing… And the other “thing”. Poor Bobby, goes out for a smoke and I… There are incriminating pictures but sadly we have to pick them up in person. Or are there? Do you know how easy it is to start a rumor about yourself?

 

But instead, I have something horrible to discuss. A realization that I just refuse to accept. For Mother’s Day, Bobby ordered me a beautiful trike. It cost him a pretty penny so I insisted on getting the smaller one. The brochure said, and I quote “for users 125 pounds or less and for persons under 5 foot 4 inches.” Hello. I’m 5’3 and a few pounds under 125. It’s perfect and it’ll save my honey $300. Hell yeah.

 

My butt engulfed the seat and my legs felt like they were in a can of sardines. Hello. Everyone knows I have a big mouth but a big ass? Pam or Lindy? Someone should have told me about my ass.  So I’m testing this bike for midgets, pissed off because I did this whole song and dance about how I saved him money. And because I’m slightly stubborn, I was determined to make this work as Bobby and bike guy commented how strange and in pain I looked. I kept yelling “I’m sure I’ll get used to it…” praying that when I stood up, the seat wouldn’t be permanently attached to my ass. Thinking if I just wore parachute pants there would be less friction between my knees.

 

After 11 years of marriage Bobby knows I’ll choose my stubbornness over the greater good any day. He bought the bigger trike without discussing it. And now I appreciate it and I love my trike. We rode 3 miles Saturday. 4 Sunday. I know it doesn’t sound impressive but I haven’t exercised in two years so I’m kinda proud of myself.

 

The sad part is I’m still pissed that I wasted $300 because of my big ass. But I truly love my trike and I shall shower my husband with gifts and gadgets as soon as criply possible.