|Breezy after biting my lip one too many times!|
For those of you who missed it, my youngest son, my sweet, precious, wonderful, (hold on - I'm just getting started here), my darling, fascinating, and most endearing 14 year old deflated the air out of my front two tires on Saturday evening. Lovely. Why did he do this my dear friends and blog readers ask? Because he was mad at me for doing my job; for telling him he'd been naughty at a friend's house. Ahhh..so he turned around and did the next logical thing; he let the air out of my tires. "Humph..that will show her!"
He was extremely lucky he was safely secured in my husband's truck as I walked into the garage. When our eyes met, Austynn immediately bolted the doors on Eric's Ford. That was the smartest thing Austynn did all day.
Eric later told me that our kiddo used the excuse that I loved my car more than him. Interesting. Is that why I planned on taking him to a children's movie for his birthday the next day? Oh, and by the way, nothing is comparable to watching a movie with my autistic son, Austynn. He hollers his appreciation throughout the movie, tells the adults behind him to stop coughing because they're spraying germs into his hair, and trips people walking in front of him because he's annoyed by their constant badgering. I must love my car more than him because afterwards I was going to take him to Dave and Busters, meet his dad and brother there for dinner, and spend a fortune on tokens so he could eventually win a $1.20 plastic mug with the restaurant's logo on it. I must really, really love my car.
Needless to say, his decision to deflate my tires cost him his birthday celebration. We spent a quiet afternoon at home. A homemade cake, one gift, and grilled hamburgers. Sometimes bad decisions come with a rather hefty consequence.
Bring on my second gripe...droopy thighs. Ok, really? I realize that I have a lot to be grateful for. Since January I've dropped 50 pounds. I'm not working at it, it just seems to be doing its thing. I'm content. My spirit has quieted down. I'm not focused on what I'm eating, simply eating less and only when I'm hungry. I've been kinder to myself; however, I've obviously not been kinder to my thighs. I seem to look at this part of my body and think, "Holy crap, they have a zip code of their own." I don't intend to be so harsh on myself but this year my husband bought me a full length mirror. I've never had one before. I've never had the opportunity to see these two limbs in their shocking "completeness". Damn, gravity is not kind to 40+ gals, especially ones like myself who've lost and gained hundreds of pounds throughout their lifetime.
When I move one way, my thighs continue to move in several opposing directions at the same time. Cellulite pops hither and thither while mounds of flesh move side to side or up and down. It's horrifying. I have a confession to make, I haven't worn a pair a shorts since I was fourteen years old. This was the last time my legs didn't rub together when I walked. Wearing a bathing suit absolutely makes me shudder.
Finally, the "Biting Lip Syndrome". What's with this? I hate it when I bite my lip one silly time and then that same stupid swollen spot finds its way back into my bite's path 4 to 5 more times throughout the day. OUCH! By the time I'm done finding and hacking on that tender spot, I look like like a deformed, drooling monkey and what's worse, I'm talking like an idiot. Oh yeah..then I forget and order a lemonade and some salty french fries with my dinner. Way to go dumb ass!