My husband and I made a quick trip to the mall last night to get a birthday present for Lauren (Happy Birthday Lauren!). 

The end.

Ok, not really. 

While we were there he wanted to run and try on and pick up some jeans.  He grabbed a pair and ran to the dressing room just to get a quick gauge of where to go from there.

He came out of the dressing room looking a little distraught.  The jeans didn’t fit.  They were too tight. 

The look on his face said it all. Depression. Self-hate.  Why? WHY?! WHY!!!

All I told him was, “Welcome to my world.”  He finally knew what it felt like to be a woman and something NOT FIT PROPERLY.  

I soothed him by telling him what I would have wanted to hear, “It was probably just the cut of the jean that made them tight.”

He also reacted like every woman I know.  Instead of going home and running or working out he got a $10 container of pistachios, cashews, and peanuts.  Now that’s my kind of (wo)man!

Now let’s see…how fat is my husband?

Yeah, exactly.  Not fat at all.  I would still kill for his legs.  Is that a weird thing to say?

Speaking of not fat and fat…

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