*OR SO IT WOULD APPEAR

This morning, I got up at 6:00, bleary-eyed and crazy-haired, and opted to start my day with 60 minutes of cardio hell instead of something more sane and nice like sleeping or snuggling. I picked out my outfit in the semi-darkness and threw it on - gray yoga capris from Old Navy and my softball team t-shirt from last year (with my Twitter handle on the back...RECOGNIZE!) Needless to say, I try really hard to dress to impress at the gym.

Anyway, I went to the gym and suffered through an hour of cross-training madness. An old man lingered behind me when I was on the elliptical. He didn't seem to be doing anything useful, i.e. getting a drink of water or signing up for a machine. I kept giving him the side-eye backwards glare. Pervert. Who stands and stares at a six-months-pregnant woman's ass? It's bad enough when it's a regular ass.

I finished my workout which (unfortunately) included a few trips around the gym from machine to machine. I kept getting weird looks. Being all sensitive about being preggers I figured people are wondering if I'm actually knocked up or just fat. Listen, people, I'm at this gym six days a week - if I'm gaining this much weight without a bun in the oven you all better quit your gym memberships right now because IT AIN'T WORKING.

I went home and got ready to get in the shower, because, if you know me, you know that I refuse to shower in the gym, just like I refuse to watch reality shows about dancing or eat lobster.

I pulled off my pants and then I realized...I had grabbed the wrong pair.

THE PANTS THAT DON'T LEAVE THE HOUSE.

See, I have two pairs of identical Old Navy gray capri yoga pants. And one of those pairs I wore when we were painting our living room...and I sat in some paint. Mocha-coloured paint.

It left a stain right on my asscrack. Like right at the poop spot. And ever since then these pants have been relegated to at-home use only. They are housecleaning pants, sick day pants, dog grooming pants. I don't even go out to the end of the driveway to bring in the garbage cans with these things because of the paint stain, which looks exactly like I pooped myself.




In my half-awake state and rush to get out the door I grabbed the poop pants and wore them for a solid hour in public and now everyone at my gym thinks I'm fat AND that I shit myself.

FABULOUS!

I'm throwing these pants in the garbage.