You are what you eat...

A miracle happened today.

Due to a combination of party invites, I discovered myself to be hobbit free for a whole 120 minutes!
The thought of this impending freedom had me going dizzy from the excitement, and I set upon considering what I was going to do with my 'me time'.

The options were limitless; housework; sit in the toilet for an hour and actually have a pee in peace;
sew up the hole in the delicate place in Spiderman's school trousers or go for some retail therapy...hmmm.

Now as much as I would love to go to the toilet without being interrupted by tiny voices, retail therapy seemed to be the 'more me' option. The last time I brought anything clothing wise was back in 1862 when I bought some boots in the sale - so it's been a while.

Leaving excited hobbits with lots of other excited tiny people, (and two amazingly chilled parents,) I skipped back to the car happily - in fact there was so much bounce in my step, casual observers may have called it jogging.

Freedom and William Wallace came to mind as I started the engine and sped off into town.

Now I truly haven't bought anything for a long time, and I'm beginning to look like an old bag lady I'm ashamed to say. My wonderful step-mother has a walk in wardrobe to die for, and could give Imelda Marcos a run for her money in the clothing stakes, so it really is high time that I at least bought some new underwear.

So with the images of myself in long flowing maxi dresses and pinafores for the summer, I briskly walked into the nearest shop aiming high. I picked up dresses, tops, skirt and rushed into the changing room like a child at Christmas hoping to glance at the new me.

Seven minutes later I emerged - crushed and despondent. The dresses made me look like the Guy on the bonfire and don't even get me started on the top.  My muffin top has spread...I have muffin arms, muffin waist and muffin legs. My future as Britain's Top Model is doomed.

I finally settled with a hoodie. Succumbing to the fact that I need to hide it not flaunt it.
"Did you find everything you wanted?" Squeaked the tiny thing behind the cash desk.
"Hmm, no not really. Unless you sell vouchers for liposuction here?" I enquired.
She smiled and looked at me pitifully, "Oh I know what you mean, the same thing happened to me the other day, you take 5 items in and nothing fits."
I looked at her - what the hell was she trying on? A condom? She alone was no bigger than my thigh.

Trudging out of the shop, realising that I have reached a point in my life that I no longer have an 18 year old's body...well not yet anyway...and in the vain hope that Tents R Us had a sale on skirts, I thought perhaps the best thing to do was consol myself in a coffee and a lemon muffin.

Well, you are what you eat they say...