On Monday Bec and I went shopping for the hardiest, sturdiest piece of spandex that we could lay our hands on. It was the only thing that lay between me and wedding dress disasterville.
Whoah. Those things are merciless. And getting into them is something akin to trying to squeeze yourself into a sausage casing.
Our relationship also reached new heights. Now I love my sister-in-law, but I can't say I ever imagined being naked with her in a dressing room, or having her with her arms around my jiggling waist while I jumped, in an attempt to get it up to my armpits.
Finally, after about an hour of squishing my fat into all sorts of places I never imagined it could go, we settled on a horrific beige number that started at my knees and ended up at my chest and gave me a butt from a cabbage patch doll.
Last night was the big reveal. Kristen and Bec showed up to do battle. After a mere few minutes of pulling and tugging we managed to get the zip up. Goal #1 achieved. And while I didn't quite look like the stuffed sausage that was last time, it would be fair to say that there still stands a couple of kg between now and being able to breathe, eat, drink or move with any ease on my wedding day.
So Kristen took bad cop. Running every day from now to then, lettuce and water for the next two weeks, Bec slap her hand if she goes anywhere near real food. Bec went for the more optimistic "Oh well, it is the evening, and everyone knows you're skinnier in the morning. So as long as you don't gain any weight over Christmas, we should be okay..."
So blogger world, have a fabulous Christmas, and think of me and my sister-in-law slapping my hand every time I divert from the salad bowl when you're having that second helping of cheesecake :)
1 comments:
HAHAHA
You poor thing! But somehow on the big day these things have a way of working out. I'm sure you'll be slim and trim and able to indulge in that most decedent of treats: breathing.
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