I’m still in the process of copying-and-pasting all of my old blogs/comments over to the new site. I’m up to Joseph’s birth last September. Only four more years to go. *eye roll* And I’m not feeling very inspired today since I still have a wicked headache from that Sumo-Crow and my leg is still throbbing. So nothing new today. I’m still working on a couple of items about the whole “Can God Be Trusted” thing as well as some Iran things. But my head isn’t quite in that space.

But I did come across this old favourite which, surprisingly, my cousin even requested as repost. So enjoy!

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Here’s the thing. My legs touch at the top.

Yes. I will admit to this evident deformity. My legs have ALWAYS touched at the top. Even when I was 7 years old and frightfully skinny, my legs touched at the top. It’s a family thing. So I know it’s not just a weight thing. My thighs just touch at the top.

Okay?

Whoever designed shorts obviously never had thighs. They were obviously not a woman. They were obviously not shaped like anything other than 12-year-old boy.

In the summertime people seem to quite enjoy wearing shorts. After all, it’s hot and they don’t have to go to work every day. So I put on my shorts and go out into the world. Even though I know that I will have to face what millions of other women NOT shaped like referenced 12-year-old boys do.

The Sneaky Crotch Pull-Down.

You know. You’re walking along in your little shorts and they start to creep up.

“Oh, no,” you think. “My shorts are creeping up in the middle. Ack. It feels bunchy. I have a bunchy crotch. OH MY WORD. Can people see it? Is everyone looking? Is this going to be on Perez Hilton later?”

So you try to surreptitiously shake one leg to the side, hoping that the shorts will just fall out nicely. But no. It’s really there. So now your shorts are all bunched up to your crotch and you’re shaking your leg like Thumper trying to dislodge them. It’s quite subtle.

And that’s when a pack of supermodels about age 18 walk by. With their little shorts and stick-thin legs that have never seen a pair of shorts with an inseam longer than 3 inches and can’t fathom a time when their legs may actually touch at the top.

Not that I’m bitter.

Now you’re faced with a dilemma. Do you stop and pull down the bunchiness? Do you stride past like “Hey, what bunchy crotch? I think a bunchy crotch is quite appealing. And I’m good-looking and skinny too.” Do you sit on the sidewalk and cry? Do you swear off shorts until the end of time and resort to skirts for the rest of your life?

So usually we resort to The Sneaky Crotch Pull Down. You sneakily try to pull the centre of your shorts down. You’re walking, just hanging out. You glance over nonchalantly at nothing but are trying to look preoccupied and like you aren’t even aware of this situation.

And just ever so casually reach down and yank the crotch of your shorts back down to where they should be. Shake a leg and then keep walking.

Be warned though. Every time I have attempted this maneuver, when I raised my eyes, someone was making eye contact with me as if to say “What the heck was that?” To which I usually glare back the message “Oh, like you’ve never had pull down the crotch of your shorts before?”

And then I go buy three skirts at Winners.

Here’s the thing. My legs touch at the top.

Yes. I will admit to this evident deformity. My legs have ALWAYS touched at the top. Even when I was 7 years old and skinny, my legs touched at the top. It’s a family thing. So I know it’s not just a weight thing. My thighs just touch at the top.

Okay?

Whoever designed shorts (i.e. an inseam shorter than 10 inches) obviously never had thighs. They were obviously never a woman. They were obviously never shaped like anything other than 12-year-old boy.

In the summertime I quite enjoy wearing shorts. After all, it’s hot and I don’t have to go to work every day (yet). So I put on my shorts and go out into the world. Even though I know that I will have to face what millions of other women NOT shaped like referenced 12-year-old boys do.

The Sneaky Crotch Pull-Down.

You know. You’re walking along in your little shorts and they start to creep up.

“Oh, no,” you think. “My thighs happen to actually TOUCH at the top of my legs. And now the shorts are creeping up in the middle. Ack. It feels bunchy. I have a bunchy crotch. OH MY WORD.”

How attractive.

So you kind of try to surreptitiously shake one leg to the side, hoping that the creep will just fall. But no. It’s really up there. So now your shorts are all bunched up to your crotch and you’re shaking your leg like Thumper trying to dislodge them.

And that’s when a pack of supermodels about age 18 walk by. With their little shorts and stick-thin legs that have never seen a pair of shorts with an inseam longer than 3 inches and can’t fathom a time when their legs may actually touch at the top.

Not that I’m bitter.

Now you’re faced with a dilemma. Do you stop and pull down the bunchiness? Do you stride past like “Hey, what bunchy crotch?” Do you sit on the sidewalk and cry? Do you swear off shorts until the end of time and resort to skirts for the rest of your life?

Hey, baby. I’ve tried them all.

The worst is when you sneakily try to pull the centre of your shorts down. So you’re walking and just ever so casually (right) reach down and yank the crotch of your shorts back down to where they should be.

Be warned though. Every time you do that, when you raise your eyes, someone will be making eye contact with you as if to say “What the heck was that?” To which I usually glare back the message “Oh, like you’ve never had pull down the crotch of your shorts before?”