I'm also covering my ass. Literally

I'm making progress in the self-improvement/self-care/self-love/self-not-being-a-shitshow-department, I really am. It all started with new reusable grocery bags.

Then I started running. I'm 17 pounds away from my pre-3 kids weight and let's be honest, it's not going to magically melt off, especially if I keep eating all of the kids' candy. I've been running just a few times a week and for just a few feet, but it's enough that I've decided to sign up for the Hot Chocolate Run on Dec. 2 in Massachusetts. So I have motivation to keep on moving. Right on out of Connecticut.

Then I decided to invest in some new pajamas, instead of continuing to recycle old sweatpants and yoga pants from 20 years ago, and here's why:

Junior: "Hey Mom? When you went outside to help Everett get into his friend's car I could see your..."

Me: "My what, honey?"

Junior: "From the way you bent over, I don't know if you know but..."

Me: "But what?"

Junior: "That's kind of the point. It's a butt thing. The one with two Ts."

Me: "Could you just come out and say it?" 

Junior: "You have a rip in your pajamas! When you bent over to help Everett I could see your...and the kid's dad could see your..."

Me: "Butt?"

Junior: "And your..."

Me: "Underwear??"

Junior: [Turning beet red] "Yes! All of it!" 

Me: "Good God!" 

Junior: "It's ok, Mom. The dad looked at his phone instead of..." 

Me: "Agh!" 

Junior: [Turning beet red] "I know..."  

Me: [Squinting my eyes] "So you and your brothers can say poop, pee, diarrhea, the squirts, penis, butt and potty stuff AND put your hands down your pants 24-7 AND fart till the cows come home but you can't say the word underwear when it's about your own mother's?" 

Junior: "Pretty much..."  

Me: "Good to know."  

So. Moving forward (and heading into Christmas season Chuck, wink, wink) instead of spending money on my kids' clothes, I'm going to buy myself some freaken clothes, starting with items that cover my unmentionables. And I'm getting new socks. No more holey socks for mom while the kids run around in thermal, moisture wicking socks. 

NO MORE HOLEY SOCKS this winter.

Especially now that I'm a runner.*

 *Who also walks a lot. 

P.S. I love this woman's expression, by the way. I bet she has awesomely perfect pajamas and that when hers rip she promptly hucks them across the room and yells, "UNACCEPTABLE!" and then does some crunches.

P.P.S. I should probably start doing crunches too, huh?