What was she thinking??

Tonight we went to "town" and went to eat at a local buffet type family establishment for dinner. Yeah, I know it's tacky and white-trailer-trashy to eat at these types of eateries, but it's fairly cheap and the kids like it; therefore it's a win/win for us.

Anyway, this post isn't about our lack of class as a family. It's about what people, women in general, wear in public. HOLY MOLY. Now, I am a big girl. ~ I don't know if you can tell that from my typing, do my letters look full figured she wonders staring at the computer screen? Does my blog look fat in this template? *gasp* In next months blogger monthly read about how to appear thinner in print, how to shed those excess new blogging pounds, and how put your blog on a diet!~

I digress, GEEZ stop distracting me, anyway, big girls. I admire a curvious woman who isn't afraid to show herself off a little. I tend to hide, but I did that even when I was thin, so I don't think my fat is the problem, I should have been born in the Pioneer Days when if you showed a little ankle you were considered risque`. What I DON'T admire is big girls who wear teeny tiny tank tops with boobies and flesh bouncing everywhere and then TIGHT blue jeans with her Just My Size underwear peeking out the back. EWWWWW. Get a full length mirror girlfriend. You give us self respecting womanly types a bad name. And don't you think that having that much extra flesh out and about in a buffet type setting is a little unsanitary?

There was some girls flouncing around in short, tight mini skirts and big tall wedge shoes, digging in the buffet and holding everybody up while they played with the jello- just the fact the buffet HAD jello is embarrassing to admit. Oh, did I mention they looked 6?! They could barely see up over the buffet counter. Does their Mother have them enrolled in the "Learn how to be a striper in 10 days or less" program at their elementary school I wonder? Gracious. I think it's so unnecessary and plain tacky to dress little girls up like they are getting ready for a raucous night of clubbing. I am glad i have boys. What scares me is in a few years my boys will be noticing little girls like that and getting strange ideas. OY.

Next there was some old people with walkers at the buffet. Okay, if you were having to use a walker, why oh why, would you go to a buffet? How are you supposed to hold your plate? These elderly people, who seemed to at least be appropriately dressed, THANK GOD, didn't appear to be with anyone ablebodied either. It was a train wreck. I should have got up to help them I suppose, that didn't occur to me until just now. What a bad citizen I am. Or maybe I hate old people, one or the other...

And one last thing about our night of fine dining. The place was PACKED so at least we were eating with a bunch of our closest white-trailer-trash friends. And it's in the middle of the dinner rush. And one of the brainiac employees decide to mop the floor. I am NOT kidding. We had old people toddling around, toddlers teetering on high heels, big girls bouncing to and fro, and me gimping around in my nun's habit, and a little man saying " Watch your step ladies, the floor is wet". What kind of a moron mops the floor in the middle of the dinner rush, I ask you? It didn't appear as if anyone had spilled anything either and he was moping the whole dining room floor. Maybe the restaurant got some fancy new accidental slip and fall insurance policy that they wanted to try out before the night was over?

After our dinner we went over to Barnes & Noble to reek havoc in yet another public place. I didn't see any scantily dressed babes there, sorry. I, for some reason unbeknownst to me, grabbed a pile of books about housekeeping and found myself a chair. I paged through happy homemaking journals while hubby took the kids to the little kids area of the bookstore where chaos reigns supreme. I read about how to clean windows, how to clean my kids room and organize it, how to serve a formal dinner with style and class, how to prepare my guest room for company, how to remove rust stains, and what to look for when buying produce. I left with a renewed sense of purpose and a promise, made silently to myself in the relative quiet of the bookstore, to come home and get busy, to be the wife and mother I know I am capable of being. I will make our house a HOME, dammit, and I will have sparkling windows to prove my womanliness.

We came home and I took a look around at the state of our pigsty and decided to blog instead. *sigh* Being this vigilant and having so many enlightened observations is just TOO tiring , to draining, to demanding, to be all Susie Homemakery and domestic. Maybe I'll write a book about THAT.