While running some quick errands on Saturday, I stopped at the one store near my home where I can find jeans that fit me properly (Levi's Signature Low-rise or Mid-rise Bootcut, if you happen to want to buy me some new jeans.) When I returned home, I told The Husband that I had used the joint account to purchase said jeans, since I figured he would ask about it when he balanced the checkbook.
"I bought a pair of jeans, since most of mine don't fit anymore," I said.
"I thought you were working out," he replied. "Why are your jeans too small?"
I rolled my eyes at him. "They aren't too small," I countered, "they're too big. I've been focusing on my lower body, so the stuff I've already got doesn't sit right anymore. You have noticed that I've been working on my butt, hip and thighs, right?"
"Yeah, you're getting there," he said.
"Well, I've got good legs," I said. "I mean, I think I have good legs- those years as a dancer gave them a good shape, especially when I wear heels."
"They aren't bad," he said, in all seriousness.
By this time I was starting to seethe a bit. I've complimented him on how his legs are nicely toned when he rides his bike, and how some of the work he does has reshaped his shoulders. He knows that I'm working to firm up and get healthy. Could he not throw me a bone?
"Are you seeing anything that you actually do like?" I asked in exasperation.
"Well, your butt is getting better here," he said as he patted my lower glutes, "so you just need to work on this," as he indicated the upper/outer thigh. "And as soon as you do some more upper body work, you'll firm up your arms so you won't be so self-conscious about wearing short sleeves..."
"In other words, you saying 'Dana, you're not as bad looking as you used to be!'"
I do have to admit, he isn't a total moron. He was smart enough to wait until after we had sex to say these things. I think he knew, deep down, that he wouldn't be getting any action after he made those remarks!