This is why I rarely go out

3.17pm – “Oh Crap”!

While sitting at my desk dreaming of getting more than 8 hours of sleep I remember I have to go out with my mother that night. “Sigh”. Resigned to another night of mediocre sleep I return to my capitalist servitude.

4. 10pm

The drive home is scene. Gentle rain, tall trees, lulling traffic. And then I break out into a cold sweat. “Do I have clothes?” For girls with big boobs, wide hips and thick thighs getting dressed has its challenges. More often than not, it’s the bra that the problem. And no big boobs ARE NOT Double or even Triple D’s. Talk to me when you jumped at least 2 cup sizes and your back is under 36.

I’m grown now. I know how and where to shop for my breasts and I love my retailers and the custom care I get.

That’s not the problem tonight. I have my long line bra.

“But what am I wearing? Ok. I have I wore to that work thing in August. Different crowd? Yeah.? It should be.”

I smile to the nice lady looking at me talking to myself in the car.

And then the question every woman who works out infrequently, loves pastries and goes out even less always has to answer when planning an outfit.

“But will it fit?”

 I stop smiling at the woman.

4.20pm

I’m plotting. Get home. Take a nap. The event is at 7. I calculate how long I can sleep before I have to getting and then deduct another 25 mins for makeup and indecisiveness about makeup. “Once I am home by 4.45 I can nap till 5.45pm. And then I will pick up mummy on the way by 6.35pm and the venue is 15 minutes away.

4.21pm

My gas light pops up at the same time my husband messages to remind me that he has to pick up our nephew from the day-care because he’s babysitting tonight and I have the car.

5.20pm

Mr. Cuteness is jumping out the back seat of the car with his uncle and the car tank is full. No, I wasn’t going to fight this battle by myself. My priority is finding the dress and making sure it fits. Yes, finding because while playing peak-a-boo I remembered I am not sure where the dress is.

5.35pm

Dress found, I set an alarm for 5.50pm. I can nap, sprint to get everything done and be on time. My internal voice is naively positive. I call my mother to make sure we are still on for tonight because you never know, the event could be tomorrow and I end up staying home. She was napping.

“Mummy!” I shout into the phone.

“Uh”

“What time is the event?” always confirm with mummy

“7” she says in the most envious sleepy voice.

“What time you wanna leave by you?” always ask her what time she wants to leave the house. This is called ‘mummy management’, because retired people are enigmatic.

“Umm, 6.45” Her voice is stronger. It’s clear and it sounds like she’s awake enough to be mindful. I hang up and drift off to nap land, where I am attending to file for permanent residence.

6.30pm

The phone is vibrating under my cheek.

Someone is calling me?                               Someone is calling me.

It’s mummy, asking what time to expect me. “I’m almost ready”, I say in the most dismissive tone I could muster without alerting her to the fact that I have stumbled off the bed. She sounds rested.

6.50pm

After enduring the condensing snickering of my husband I make it out the house clothed. There is a pep in my step though. The dress, it’s a slack! Not a whole size too big but visibly not quite my size.

Nude shoes, black lace dress, minimalist gold jewellery. YAS!

I’m at my mother’s door. She is still dressing but I don’t care. I am just her date and it makes me less tardy looking.

6.55pm – and she want to take pictures.

“Mummy it’s almost 7”

“We have time” I raise an eyebrow

“What! It starting 7.30”! I concentrate on the fact that she is my mother, she is over 60 and I love her… dearly. But you know what who cares in this outfit, I got that look from my husband like I’m cooked food and for a woman with an ass that only fits into size 16, my waist is looking size 10.

7.50pm – We walked in and I saw the eyes.

I am feeling myself and my mummy is cute too. I really do love going out with her. My mother is obese and unashamed of that label. My mother is also the best dressed woman I know. This is a woman with 2 seamstresses, a walk in closet and a separate 8 foot tall wardrobe. Momma don’t play with quality or quantity. She never steps out at less than an 8. And tonight its her night so…

There’s a lady some ways off. She smiles at me. If you have ever been your parents date at one of their events you know you smile at everyone politely because they may know your baby stories.

7.52pm - I’m at the bar getting a drink for my date. The nice lady who was smiling at me is now next to me trying to get into the bar. She is a little bigger than my mother and I smile and make room for her.

She compliments me and enquires about my dress “off the rack or made?” I assure her it is off the rack and I boast that it’s from one of my favourite stores. She’s familiar with the store.

“Oh really!  I didn’t know THAT STORE has SUCH LOVELY for you BIG GIRLS.”

***BLINK, BLINK, BLINK***