I'm getting fat. I wasn't always fat. When I was in college, my drivers license claimed I weighed in at 142 pounds. This was a lie. Because I didn't want anyone who looked at my drivers license to know I really only weighed 135, I bumped it up to what I thought was a more suitable weight for a guy my height. Those were the days. By the time I hit my late 20s I made it to 175. Three years into my marriage I found ten more pounds, and since then, I've probably found close to ten more.
My waist size , as you might imagine, has only expanded with my poundage. I remember the days of the 29-inch waist but that was when I could down an entire box of Smurfberry Crunch while watching Moonlighting on tv. I now fit into size 36 pants but find this is more easily accomplished if I'm modeling britches with the Fatty McFat expandable waist band. One probably shouldn't rely on elastic when searching for clothes but these pants are so comfortable and they don't leave those chilblain train tracks on your hips the way less forgiving pants do.
As embarrassing as this is to admit, I went to two Target stores this weekend looking for just that style of pants. Target apparently is discontinuing them and had them marked down to the ridiculously low price of $14.98. That I consider Target a suitable outlet for men's fashion is probably not to my credit, but the less I spend on clothes the more I can spend on baby . . . and snacks. Sadly Target didn't have the Elasto-Pant in my size. The smallest they had was a size 40. I'm sure there's somebody out there who needs a faux-forty waist size but it's not me. I can still get through the bathroom door. I looked at them and suddenly felt better about myself.
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