You know that pose your husband strikes when he stands in front of the mirror and pretends he's pregnant?
He blows his gut up with air, thrusts his hips forward and makes this gigantic bun-in-the-oven belly. (They all do this right? I'm not alone here, am I?)
I used to be able to sort of gross myself out by doing it, too. I'd bloat up, look at my reflection and get disgusted. I can still see the look on my face.
Disappointment. Hurt. Embarrassment. Fear.
I tried it this week in Baltimore. The hotel bathroom had giant mirrors, making it possible to get a good full-body look.
And guess what?
I can't bloat out. Even when I try.
What a pleasant surprise.
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