This morning I was in one of those smart-alecky moods where I acted like I knew the answer to everything and if not, well then I could make something up just as good and more humorous anyway. I know, I know…me? Smart-alecky? Never. Nonetheless, my poor hubby was the brunt of this jive attitude and finally shot back with a “well aren’t you Miss Answerpants today.” Oooooh…Answerpants. I like it. It can be like my alter ego where I’m a wisenheimer, because that would be different from usual. Or not so different from usual, but somehow providing further license to be a more presumptuous maker of mischief than usual and claim that well it’s not really me being that way, it’s Answerpants.
So what has Answerpants got to say? Well, she’s pleased to report that her Duathlon National Champ jersey finally came in today (ran out of my size at the awards ceremony) and she might even be able to squeeze into it once or twice before her expanding girth makes it too uncomfortable. So what if she looks like a pregnant stuffed sausage while sporting the glorious red, white and blue. She’ll look like a pregnant stuffed sausage national champion, and that makes it all worth while. Please kindly ignore the part where you drop said champion on the hills because it’s getting harder to get up those rises carting an extra 10 pounds or so, several of which are attached to my chest. Yes, just when you thought you’d heard the end of the complaints about the overly bosomy bosom, there’s more to report. You’d think, no way can these bad girls get bigger. That’s what I thought, at least. Well friends, we’d be wrong. They CAN get bigger, as can my butt, thighs and what’s left of that area once called a waist. Answerpants isn’t too happy about that, but Alicia realizes that she’s not eating excessively or mindlessly so it must be part of the process. Neither Answerpants nor Alicia wants to hear anything about those of you who only gained that much into their 20-somethingth week. Keep that braggin stuff to yo’selves. I’m exercising most days except when I’m so tired I’d rather nap, like yesterday, when I was a draggy-butt all day long. Maybe those longer rides over the weekend finally caught up to me. I have a theory that I do much of my growing on those poopy tired days, and, quite possibly, so does the nuggin, and for Answerpants, all it takes is a little theory to make it so. No proof required.
That’s all the report for today.