the joys of being thinner

Recently the Sober Husband gave me an impromptu piggyback ride.  I haven't had a piggyback ride from anyone since I was in college, and it was charming, despite the intended squashing of my joy from a certain child, who said, "Did you just squeal?  Seriously?" to me.   Certainly this would never have happened when I was significantly larger, and it was delightful.

Clothes shopping has also been much more delightful.  I tried on a corset dress at a funky boutique on Haight Street, just pulled off the rack at a store which doesn't carry particularly large sizes, and heard those most delicious of words from the salesman:  "You could go down a size, if you want."  

Shoes are also more fun.  I've taken to wearing stilettos whenever there is the slightest excuse.  I previously was under the impression that the reason I couldn't bear to wear insanely high heels was due to my advancing age, but it turned out that once I dropped some weight, my aging feet were game, just like in my twenties.   

As well as judging the squealing, the children are not so enthused about their mother nimbly darting about in corset dresses and stiletto shoes.  Clearly it is not age appropriate.  "Since I'm not employed, I could dress like that every day," I confided to one, who cast me a side eye and sighed heavily.  

we will stay until the end

Recently I heard about an experimental theatre performance taking place on the beach.  A number of plays will be staged in one evening, with the participants meeting outdoors and being led around to the plays.  The performers are from New York, flying out for this event, and I'm not sure if they realize how chilly it is going to be at night on a beach in San Francisco during our "summer."  I signed us up to attend, though, as we all love the theatre.  Bonus:  Iris can get extra credit at her school for attending plays over the summer.

Reminding the Sober Husband about this outing, I said, "Of course, we can leave early if it sucks."  But! Lola has never forgotten the one blissful evening she saw an experimental theatre troupe and did not like this crazy talk of slipping out.  "We are staying until the end.  Even if it is terrible.  We will stay until everything is done.  We will see everything there is to see.  Even if it is terrible," decreed the little theatre devotee.    She went on in this rather repetitive vein for some time, with relish.  "If someone has a heart attack, too bad; we stay!"  I began to wonder if she hoped this performance would tank.