It started out in my drawers. Not THOSE drawers… they have an elastic waistband. But in my clothes drawers. My jeans were getting smaller and smaller. I couldn’t imagine what the problem was. I hadn’t changed the way I did laundry… everything together (which explains why all of our clothes are gray). Hadn’t tried a new soap. Nope… something else was amiss.
So this meant I was gonna have to investigate the situation. Great. As if I have nothing better to do. Well… in all reality, I DON’T have anything better to do. But it’s the POINT. This could very well cut into my nap time. And that’s not a good thing.
So I figured I needed to eliminate possibilities. I had already done that with the laundry, so it must be something else. Al Qaeda? VERY possible. But after locking the doors for a couple of days they were still too small. So after several trial and error judgments, I finally narrowed it down.
It was the furniture. The drawers were causing my clothes to shrink. This was groundbreaking research here. I might do a paper and get it published in Shrinking Furniture Monthly. I could see a Noble Prize in my future. (As easy as it is to get one now-a-days, SURELY I could get one for this).
So I started visiting some furniture stores to see about getting some NEW furniture. I couldn’t keep my clothes in these defective drawers. I had to get some new furniture to store my stuff. But sadly, after taking all of my clothes out of the drawers, the shrinking didn’t stop. The closet was in on it as well. Clothes I had worn countless times were now shrinking as well. This was MUCH bigger than just the furniture. Yeah… this was HUGE. We were gonna need another house.
So I started looking at what was on the market. And THEN I started looking at what was on the market that we could afford. That was when I found a nice van down by the river. One room… cozy…
But while all this was going on, the furniture shopping… the house hunting… I was having to acquire more clothes. Clothes that fit. And clothes I was going to store outside. I couldn’t trust to put them in the furniture… or even in the house.
So I bought a jogging suit. I had to buy two, actually, because my body rejected the first one thinking I might be about to start… exercising. And I bought the jogging suits in dark brown because I found that hid the gravy stains the best. I even went as far as to buy a new suit for church. Luckily for me, the suit had an elastic waistband. That really worked for me since my knees would buckle before my belt would.
But during all this, the clothes were still shrinking. Still too tight. Even the ones I stored outside. So my family doctor suggested there might be another cause. Maybe it was… ME!! This guy went to medical school for THAT?? How could it be ME?
“What are you eating?” Whatever I want. “Do you snack between meals?” No. “No??” No. I do not snack between meals. I only eat one meal a day. And that meal starts at the time I get up in the morning and ends when I go to bed at night.
“Do you exercise?” I run. Some. “How far do you run?” From my chair to the fridge when a commercial comes on. “How about work out at the gym? Do you do anything like that?” Well… I know a guy at church named Jim. “Not quite the same.” I drive BY the gym every now and then. I blow the horn and wave. “Nope… that’s not gonna do it.” I’ll be honest. I had to give up exercising. When my body started burning fat, I smelled like bacon and it made me hungry. So I was defeating the purpose.
So he, being “the doctor,” told me it wasn’t my drawers. It wasn’t my house. It wasn’t even Al Qaeda. It was me. I needed to watch what I eat. I needed to… to… diet. And… and… exercise.
Oh this was gonna be hard. I hated it. My friends would miss me so much. I couldn’t let them down. They had stuck with me for so long. Little Debbie… Chester Cheeto… Mrs. Smith. MRS. SMITH!! Who would eat her delicious pies if not for me?
So I just bought some bigger clothes.