Normal desk. Normal desk chair.
Not normal thigh circumference. Makes for an uncomfortable situation whenever I need to type.
I have massive quads, tiny hammies, and a cute little tush but there was a time when I had HUGE everything from the waist down. I am blissfully unaware of this fact until Dad points it out to me when I'm home on vacation as a senior in college. I haven't been able to get my jeans past my thighs for a few months now so I have resorted to wearing only cargo pants and corduroys. As I am bending over the sink to wash a dish (not a normal occurrance) Dad speaks up from behind his paper.
"Katie, you've put on some weight."
I look down at my flat stomach. "Um, I don't think I have," I say, now starting to feel unsure of myself. Maybe all those late night trips to TBell are finally starting to show.
Dad presses the issue by standing up and waving his hand around one of his thighs and a butt cheek. "In this area."
I turn from the sink, outraged and sputtering. "I'm not fat! That's from playing hockey!" He looks at me over his rims, throwing me the I-was-born-at-night-but-not-last-night look. I throw down the towel, walk to the center of the room, and assume a hockey position, full squat with fake stick lying across my legs. "This is what I do in order to play. Sitting in an imaginary chair for two hours straight makes my legs look like this."
A pause. A skeptical look. A tsk. And back to the morning paper.
Well, I never!
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