My thighs haven’t seen the sun in years.   Slap some fangs and a brooding personality on them and you’ve got a recipe for vampire – seriously, they’re that close to the shade of Elmer’s paste (and almost as lumpy).

Until recently.  A few weeks ago, I wore a pair of workout shorts to a Zumba class.  Bad idea – even after losing so much weight, as I watched myself dancing in the full-length mirrors I couldn’t help but compare my thighs to bouncing balloons stuffed to capacity with packing peanuts.

So, that was a giant “no” for wearing shorts in public.  Last weekend, I decided to try again and set off to find a pair of denim shorts at a nearby open-air mall.  I scoured every store possible, and all I was greeted with was a profusion of corduroy pants and wool sweaters.  I love fall fashion as much as the next person, but it was still 90 degrees the day I went shopping – show a little love for a cool body temperature, c’mon.

Finally, I found one pair in the section of JC Penney reserved for “ladies of a certain age.”  Oh well, shorts are shorts.

And it wasn’t horrible.  I didn’t look great.  I probably didn’t even look good, but I sure felt good about myself. 

I strutted my packing-peanut balloons around Wisconsin proudly.


2 thoughts on “Shorty!

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