A real fat thing

Let me make a short story long...

The Texas State High School Wrestling Tournament (should I put this in all caps? because for the month of February, our lives revolve around this event) was this past weekend. That meant that Patrick took his boys that qualified to Austin on Thursday to wrestle, and the kids and I joined him Friday after school. I really like to watch wrestling. Well, kind of. That's somewhat of a lie. I like to watch good wrestling, but once someone gets twisted so that their shoulder (or neck or knee or ankle) looks like it could snap out of their torso, I tap out. Parker and Peyton are getting better and better at behaving/learning to be entertained at tournaments, but the event is exhausting to say the least. And all I'm doing is carting kids around and giving myself whiplash every other match.

Saturday night after the finals, Parker, Peyton and I drove on down to San Antonio to see Denise and Hank. It was a short visit. We arrived around 9:30 Saturday night and left by noon on Sunday. Then we spent three hours parked on I-35 just south of New Braunsfels because the highway was shut down due to an accident.

Unfortunate for all of us. Parker mooned a man in a VW bug behind us because he couldn't hold it anymore and we were desperate.

My plan was to stop in San Marcus at the Taj Mahal of shopping center. That's right. Prime Outlets and Tanger Outlets next door, back to back. I am ready to embrace my expanding belly and really wanted to get some cute maternity clothes at the Motherhood outlet.

By the time we got to San Marcus, I was about to throw my shopping idea out the window, since my last nerve had escaped there, too, after 3 hours of traffic. But we had been in the car for an eternity, and the kids and I needed to stretch our legs.

That, and the bargains.

So we first went to Old Navy and got the kids some really cute stuff. The Childrens Place was right there, so we went in to that place, too. And I really want some new sunglasses, and Patrick did say, "After your recent experience on Texas's lovely highway system, buy yourself something nice, baby." And I wanted to get Parker some summer sandals, and then the kids wanted a carmel apple, and I was just too weak by this time to say no.

So we'd been shopping for about an hour and a half, and we finally head across the street to Motherhood. After getting a dirty look or ten from a sales lady there because, well, maybe my kids weren't acting like angels, I found a couple dresses and we were back on the road.

And here's the real story, in case I lost you with all of the unnecessary information above:
Monday morning I put on one of the dresses that I had gotten on Sunday.
Parker walks into the bathroom and says, "Mom, why are you wearing that?"
"Because," I say, "it fits and it's new."
"Well," he says, "it makes you kind of ... fat."

Can someone remind me why we teach five year olds to be honest?