This is me. My husband is out of town and my hair is greasy. I have two kids so I usually have stains on my shirt and I sweat a lot in Houston in July. I am pregnant. I complain and kind of waddle from time to time. I am self proclaimed white trash, occasionally. Let me share why. This is my new favorite pair of maternity jeans.
They soon became my favorite at the store because they weren't too tight. In fact, they were so comfortable that after discovering the "Baby" in rhinestones on the buttock pocket, I bought them anyway. Is it referring to the baby in my womb, or am I the Baby. I don't really know.
After a typical pregnancy "I've had it" breakdown the other night my husband did something really nice, really nice. He arranged for a babysitter and took me to dinner and a movie. Calling a babysitter alone qualifies him for some serious smoochin because I hate finding a babysitter and then calling them and asking them to not do something fun and teenager-ish and come watch my kids instead. It makes me feel guilty somehow. ANYWAY,
They just built a new restaraunt not too far from our house and we have both been eagor to try it. As soon as I knew that is where we were headed I was nervous and looked down at my baby rhinestone jeans, baby doll tank over white shirt and couldn't help but notice that we were BOTH in flip flops. Now I have to say that I actually was looking pretty cute that day and I was even wearing make up but come on, my hair was in a braid, I could see my husband's toes and we were pulling up to a place with Valet parking and H2's and Jaguars in the parking lot. In my delicate pregnant state I couldn't possibly face being snickered at by snobby hostesses and turned away because of our attire. I finally got Clark to ask a Valet in the parking lot what the dress code was. His reply was "bussiness casual". Oh you guys look great....snicker snicker. So we parked the magnesium pearl colored mini van and flip flopped our way passed the fancy fountain and on passed the Valets who were dressed nicer than we were. I just really wanted to get to a table quickly before anyone could read my bum. Then I spent the next hour trying to look bored at such a hooty tooty establishment. The food was delicious though the white trash in me desperately wanted a McDonalds cheeseburger and chocolate milk shake...or at least steak and potatoes with cheddar (not some stinky foreign cheese that I had never heard of...that's not what I would call scalloped potatoes...) The meal was ended with stiffled ooh's and aah's by us, the white trash, while a chef came and flambeyed bananas before our very eyes. Is that even how one spells that word? Since I love to eat out so much we will continue to try our hand and many a different establishments. In short, the food we done 'et was real yummy...and the company was delightful. I should have picked a wedgie coming out of the place to make the appearance complete but it was enough that my husband asked if he could tinkle in the parking lot behind the car. I will let your imaginations get the better of you before telling you what my answer to him was.
