Too old

I had an epiphany while strolling down an aisle in Target. I am too old to wear Uggs. Two teenagers were steps behind me when I overheard one say, “If my Mom wore Uggs I would throw mine in the garbage.” They both let out an evil cackle. I was crying inside. I still feel like I am in my twenties, but alas, I am not. Was I dressing appropriately for my age? It’s not like I am running around in a half top. I rocked that s**t in the 9th grade, but those days are gone. Mama has a stretch mark maze on her belly.

A podiatrist made the decision for me. Apparently, at my age, I need a shoe with “more arch support.” I might as well stock up on nude, knee-high panty hose. It’s only a matter of time before I will be sporting polyester pants and hanging out in the lobby of the YMCA. You want yourself a silver haired beauty? Hit up the Y around 10 a.m. It’s like a geriatric rave.

I hawked my Uggs on a virtual garage sale site and bought a new pair of jeans. It is my first pair of skinny jeans. I’ve lost a few pounds and inches on my cankles. I used to struggle in the dressing room. I think wrestling a crocodile would have been easier. Grunting, huffing, tugging, wiggling, etc. It wasn’t pretty.

I felt like a million bucks in my new jeans. (…which I bought on clearance. Boo-yah!). Well, that is until my 6-year-old questioned, “What are you wearing? Those are way too tight.” That’s how they are supposed to look! Honey, I am a damn supermodel at Walmart.

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