The other morning, I was examining my jeans as I was getting dressed for church. I walked out of the hall and said to my DEAR, SWEET and LOVING husband, “You know I have lost nine pounds, and I swear eight of them came of my rear end… the last place I need them to..look at my jeans!”
And with that my DEAR SWEET and LOVING husband said, “Well, that might be a good thing, it been getting a little wide back there.”
Aghast. Aghast was I!
And THEN, after seeing my shock, my DEAR, SWEET and LOVING husband said, “Well, I did notice your jeans were…well…more filled out… so it’s a good thing… right?”
SO, being the DEAR, SWEET and LOVING wife that I am, I told several people today what he said.
Everyone was similarly aghast.
So I felt slightly vindicated at getting my husband “in trouble” with the congregation at church. It was a fun. I had “won.”
Until tonight, when the boys were folding laundry and the world’s cutest nine-year old exclaims, “Man, whose jeans are these? They are HUGE!”
And, my DEAR, SWEET, and LOVING husband almost fell off the couch in a fit of laughter.