Sometimes You Just Have to Laugh
Did you know that fat floats? I had always known this but never equated it with my fat boobs floating... in fact floating right out of my bathing suit as I struggled to keep up with the young little fit thing directing us through a 45 minute Aquafit session. I think I spent more time trying to get the girls back into their less than stellar restraints than I did actually flailing my arms around in a bid to work with the natural resistance of the water. Note to self... need a better swimsuit for this sort of thing.
If that wasn't comedic enough, next came... getting dressed. I almost feel like I need a drum roll. Because of my many numerous scars on my abdomen I prefer to get dressed in a private change room so off I trundle to the family change rooms. Now like all washroom doors there is always a crack of half an inch or so around the doors but with careful positioning it is totally possible to get dressed without overly exposing ones self.
It does however require some coordination. Thanks to rubbery arms (I guess that resistance was working) and a bra that is tight but usually manageable I could not for the life of me do up my bra. The logistics goes something like this. Lean forward so massively sagging boobs are pointing directly southward. Scoop said boobs into the hug slingshot bra. Breath in, reach back and try to get hooks into the first row of eyes. Readjust boobs and viola, not half a bad bust line. Yesterday it took me five attempts to get this done. My arms were like jello and I could not pull the bra tight enough to allow for hooking. I was doing all this while trying to keep my elephant butt from being visible through aforementioned door cracks.
I had to laugh at myself - from a pure slapstick humour point of view - this was a doozy. I hope that I haven't traumatized some young little thing that got a peek while all this was happening.
Watch out Janet Jackson - I may just beat you for the title of "queen of the wardrobe malfunction"
If that wasn't comedic enough, next came... getting dressed. I almost feel like I need a drum roll. Because of my many numerous scars on my abdomen I prefer to get dressed in a private change room so off I trundle to the family change rooms. Now like all washroom doors there is always a crack of half an inch or so around the doors but with careful positioning it is totally possible to get dressed without overly exposing ones self.
It does however require some coordination. Thanks to rubbery arms (I guess that resistance was working) and a bra that is tight but usually manageable I could not for the life of me do up my bra. The logistics goes something like this. Lean forward so massively sagging boobs are pointing directly southward. Scoop said boobs into the hug slingshot bra. Breath in, reach back and try to get hooks into the first row of eyes. Readjust boobs and viola, not half a bad bust line. Yesterday it took me five attempts to get this done. My arms were like jello and I could not pull the bra tight enough to allow for hooking. I was doing all this while trying to keep my elephant butt from being visible through aforementioned door cracks.
I had to laugh at myself - from a pure slapstick humour point of view - this was a doozy. I hope that I haven't traumatized some young little thing that got a peek while all this was happening.
Watch out Janet Jackson - I may just beat you for the title of "queen of the wardrobe malfunction"
posted by Aussieabroad at
9:14 AM
1 Comments:
I learned at the water park. I went to show the kids how you could sink to the bottom of the pool if you let all your air out.
I let all my air out and nothing; I stayed right at the top of the water. There was NOTHING I could do to sink. Fat really really floats.
By
qqtpie, At
8:59 PM
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