These comments make me feel good, but I see what my body actually looks like. I do own a mirror people! Not to mention, I went to buy jeans the other day and I bought a size I'd rather not discuss.
Well, the jig is up! If you ever want to know the truth, ask an 8 year old with autism. Jagger doesn't have the capacity to tell flattering white lies. So, when he burst into the bathroom, when I was changing into my jammie pants, and said, "Ew," I knew I was finally going to know the truth.
"What do you mean ew?" I gave him the stink eye.
He looked at my bottom half with disgust, "What happened to you?"
"What do you mean?" I asked again.
He walked over and grabbed a handful of thigh fat, giving it a jiggle, "Uh, well, you got kinda big."
*sigh* "Jagger, don't tell women they're fat, it'll make them cry." He just shrugged and scampered away. I guess the sight of me scared whatever it was he wanted to ask me when he barged in.
Lesson 140: son jiggling unflattering leg fat and letting you know you've let yourself go = a flabby-butt white trash mom who desperately needs to go to the gym