After the hospital didn’t have a “latex free induction room” available I was sent home to wait with a restaurant like pager that lights up when I am allowed to give birth. After my due date came and went and my Mother-in-Law was due to fly back the next day I was forced to lie! […]
Back then you didn’t go and buy boobies like today. You either had them or you didn’t. You either had them because you were on the heavier side and since boobies are, well, fat or you sold your soul to the devil because your a size 2 jeans with a size D cup. These were some mean skinny girls with some giant knockers.
I am not a big fan of bowling. Growing up in Michigan there wasn’t much to do for the nine long months that winter lasted. Most of my bowling memories involve being dropped off in a smokey bowling alley playroom (kid jail) while the adults drank played on their league.
Don’t mess with the Mama or the son who inherited the Mama’s sense of humor. Crap, they did give me the right baby at the hospital.
Renaissance festivals are bawdy by nature and the costumes are made for every size and shape. It is a very “one size fits all” costume assortment. This woman was dressed like a peasant in a long brown dress with a large elastic boat neck and elastic waist. This woman was on the larger end, (I have to say it now so you understand later) she was the largest end of the peasant dress. While this boy and I were bee lining it to the porta-potties we were also walking directly towards the bottom of the wagon stoop steps as the peasant lady decides to venture off the wagon and takes one step down and the back of her dress catches.
I may be on the “No Chaperone” list after this field trip.