Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Just another day in
paradise the armpit of the south
Reason #122 on why I hate living in the armpit of the south: It's hot, sticky, and humid. It's so hot that the minute you step outdoors you sweat. And thank you Mother Nature for the "wonderful" amount of humidity that you injected in the atmosphere yesterday. I appreciate it. Thanks to you I started off with luscious flowing locks with a slight curl, to afro-Jen in a matter of hours. I felt like the episode of Friends when the gang goes to Hawaii and Monica ends up with a poof for hair? Yeah, dear readers, you can laugh now. Aaaaaanyway, yesterday the Butterbean and I decided to embark on an adventure to the jewelers and Target. We got our shopping done at Target and headed across the shopping center to the jewelers. (The place where they cut and resized my band popped open and my band was snapped right in half. Luckily they are going to fix it free of charge since they are the ones that sized it and incorrectly soldered it back together.) So, as we were coming out of the jewelers we were attacked by an ever so eager Gold's gym employee. Apparently he wanted me to come work out there. Please. Don't. Bother. Me. When. It's. 100 degrees. Hot. Humid. And. I'm carrying. A. 22lbs. Heavyweight. Instead of telling him what I was really thinking at that precise moment. I glared at him and said "I don't work out." Hoping that this would end the attack and we'd both be on our merry way. This wasn't the case. He grinned and said, "It's never too late to start." So I hiked the Butterbean up further on my hip, tossed my
glorious now bouffant styled hair and stated, "Am I fat or something?"
He had no reply.
I walked away, happily greeted by my air conditioned vehicle.
Moral of the story: Don't mess with me when there are dozens of other people around and you choose to attack the one drenched with sweat, carrying a 22lbs baby, diaper bag, and shopping bags. You will get owned.