Chronicles of Schofield

I had a moment yesterday.

But first,

I need to share a background story to set the stage.

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The Hunk thinks I look hot when I "three barrel" my hair.

For those of you who have lived on another planet

and don't know what that means,

a three barrel is like a curling iron that makes your hair wavy,

sort of like a crimper but not so 80's.

I had always borrowed my sisters irons,

but about five years ago Chris gave me one for Valentines.

We had a hot date to the movies planned

so I three barrelled my hair and was very pleased with the results,

as was he.

We had a quiet, peaceful, blissful moment at the movies

and I was feeling really cute.

As we walked out of the theater

everyone was smiling and looking at me.

"Wow, I must really look hot!"

is what I was thinking.

"People can't stop looking at me,

I've never gotten this kind of attention before,

I must really look fantastic!"

As shocking as it seemed,

because I don't normally turn heads,

the three barrel magic had morphed me into a

sexy mama!

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As we made our way out the front doors into the parking lot

something caught my eye

on my leg.

I looked down in slow motion,

and there,

stuck to my upper thigh,

was half of a BIT O' HONEY,

wrapper and all.

I must have eaten one half during the movies,

set it in my lap,

and my body heat had melted the remaining

sweetie goodness to my leg

rendering immovable

until I could be HUMBLED

and discover

that the source of the crowd onlooks were not because I was hot,

but because I had half a candybar as an accessory.

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Dude, would you tell someone if they had Bit O' Honey stuck to their leg?

I totally would!

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So yesterday,

I had another "Bit O' Honey" moment.

I had bought some cute sweats from Old Navy

and was very surprised to find that I only needed a size MEDIUM.

Normally I wear a large to extra large,

so again my head started to inflate as I thought my sexiness was coming back.

As I put the outfit on,

suddenly a very large spotlight from the sky

shone on the tag,

and along the top in pretty letters it read

MATERNITY.

I'm not pregnant ya'll.

But no wonder I fit into a medium,

there is an extra pouch the size of Montana to fit my baby into.

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Lesson learned.

DON'T EVER THINK YOU'RE ALL THAT,

because either you're wearing maternity clothes when you're not pregnant,

or candy is stuck to your upper thigh.