Yeah, I'm back. I have more to say. It's been a long morning and the kid has just settled down after eating half a loaf of french bread (a story for another time) and a bath. So while she pounds the dog with the etch-a-sketch, I will leave you with yet another timeless anecdote.
When I bought my wedding dress, I had to get my measurements taken before it was ordered. For those of you who have purchased such a dress, you know that the sizes run extremely small. Lauren, this is my warning to you. I was a 6-8 back then, but measured like a 16. I was out in the reception area of the bridal salon, going over some last minute details with the tailor about my fittings. There were several brides in the area, milling about, clutching three ring binders full of magazine ads and whatever else is carried in those things. All of a sudden, my consultant came running out, and yelled, "(Lauren's cousins' best friend! Lauren's cousins' best friend!) Are you sure? Before I fax this order, well, it doesn't make any sense...you're a size 16! Are you certain. Let's measure you again. Yes, let me measure you really quick." Then, she pulled out her measuring tape and proceeded to measure me in front of all the other size 2 brides. Satisfied, she said, "YES! I guess you are a size 16! Yes, you are a size 16!"
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