Our parish’s Oktoberfest has come and gone. I could not volunteer as much as did last year since I’ve been working my butt off for the past six weeks in a long term sub position.
Oh, wait. No, it’s still there. Hence the need for Spanx.
Last year at this time I was running at least four days a week, about twenty pounds lighter. I felt very comfortable wearing the form fitting outfit so when my friends asked me if I was going to rock the dress again this year, my answer was no.
It was no until about twenty-four hours before Oktoberfest.
I tried it on in my room while the kids watched movies downstairs. I put on the dress and tugged at it until it showed off the right parts while covering the wrong ones. I slid the petticoat under the dress and watched as the pouf in the skirt made my waist smaller. I saw the slight rolls and thought, “Maybe I should consider Spanx.”
I have never owned a pair of Spanx. I’ve heard about them via celebrities who say they need them when really they’re a single digit prime number size. In my ponderance, I lost track of the time and realized that I was now lying down on my bed in the dark and still in the suggestive outfit.
Suddenly I heard it.
“Mommy, why are you already dressed up for Halloween?”
I should probably start saving for the kid’s therapy now.
In the end, I thought, Fuck it. I’m gonna wear the outfit. I will wear Spanx without shame and without apology.
I enlisted the help of my college friend T to help me sell raffle tickets. We even snuck in two bottles of wine without… um, paying the corking fee. Shhh!