Tight Underwear...

Yesterday I was in a bad mood most of the day.  Not sure if many of you have noticed, but I've gained a little weight over the past couple of years.  This is not something that just happened.  My gut and butt have been serving notice to my pants and belt that judgement day is coming.  Well... I think notice was served over the weekend.  Tina wondered what was wrong all day... I was a real grump.  I finally let her in on the secret... my underwear was overly tight. 

Now... I admit... some of my underwear is dated.  I mean they are of the variety I bought back when I was thirty pounds lighter.  Basically... the elastic has given till it won't give any more.  My Jockey's have drawn a line in the sand and are not stretching out any more.  I still have a few comfortable pair left, but they are mostly hole, which puts me in a bad mood for other reasons (but I won't go into that).  The ones that are still fully intact have now moved from tolerable to terrible.  Over the course of time, full rise briefs have turned to mid-rise... then to bikini (if you are eating supper I recommend you not read any farther).  The pair I put on yesterday seemed okay... I mean after I performed several Yoga movements to stretch them out... which almost  tore my right ACL and hyperextended my left knee.

People who have never battled weight have no idea of the dilemma heavy people are saddled with regarding clothes.  When a person of size begins an expansion project, they have two options... go to a larger size, or ride out the stuff you got. 

The first option usually results in the high pockets waist line that makes you look like a giant bowling pin.  This option is usually hard emotionally too because once chosen, those 32 inch waist pants you held on to for 27 years have now changed to a 48.  Also... it takes a lot of stomach control to keep these up... one must almost be pushing their stomach out all the time to maintain belt elevation.  Over-inhaling, an unexpected sneeze or sucking in your gut can quickly result in "pants on the ground". 

Option two is easier on the ego... "Sure glad I can fit into these 32's after all these years, whew".  The only problems is... option two results in a waist line that continuously migrates south.  Those 32's are now six inches lower than they were 20 years ago.  If for some reason the person choosing this option had to remove their shirt... well... are the terms "half moon and bikini wax" understood?

Buying bigger underwear is an adverture not to be done by oneself... a counselor, psychologist or accountability partner is advised to make sure you get the appropriate size.  It's natural to reach for the old size... the one you wore back in college... the size you have been abusing for going on  three decades.  Then you realize the size you need is two rows over on the big and tall isle.  Trying to appear as tall as possible, you make your way over to make a selection.

So... if a co-worker or family member appears to be in a really bad mood.  Cut them some slack... their underwear probably isn't.