pounds years ago, I did yoga. It was at the Y and probably more like Yoga Lite, but it was a nice workout and I only farted once. I put Building Up the Yoga Habit on the Baby Bucket List.
(I’m down to three things left on the Baby Bucket List – the other two were Reach a Good Weight and Go to Europe – and I don’t want to be the only fat-ass in Europe, so Yoga was it.)
The first thing I needed was a partner – so the next time Queen B. came over, I told her she had a fat ass and I had the cure – yoga. It would be quick and effortless, she’s a sucker for quick and effortless.
HB: Ok, the Y has yoga and we’re going. Do you have sweatpants?
QB: I don’t wear sweatpants, it makes my ass look fat.
HB: Your ass is already fat, but yoga will help. Let’s shop.
So we immediately sat down on the couch, pulled out the laptop and did some online shopping. Hello Old Navy yoga pants (we’re on a budget). Three days and $100 later (budget my ass), we have a lovely package from Old Navy bearing eight items of yogawear. We were so excited that we started stripping down in the kitchen to try everything on.
QB: *holding up a tank top* This is tiny, did you order children’s wear?
HB: Its yogawear, its supposed to be tight – and its Spandex so it will stretch – and Old Navy runs big, its fine.
QB: *halfway into the tank top* Was this made in China by very little Chinese people? Because this would only fit a tiny Chinese woman.
HB: Yeah Mom, thats why we wear 2X, it means the size of two Chinese ladies whose names start with X. Xing and Xiong.
QB: They need to make this stuff bigger. Obviously if you’re doing yoga its because you’re fat. Skinny people don’t need yoga, and if they show up at yoga in clothes that fit, they’re just showing off. Its like a self-esteem class for them.
HB: Quit acting like you’ve ever been to a yoga class. You don’t even know how to spell yoga.
Since we were in the kitchen, there were no mirrors – so we pour ourselves into our first ensembles, electric coral racerback tank top and yoga capris, then turn around to model to each other. And great, one of the pants can’t be returned now because SOMEONE laughed too hard and wet her pants.
QB: Your thighs look like a couple of homemade bratwurst in those pants.
HB: What is that coming out of the back of your racerback tank top – OMG Mom, you have C cups, facing backwards.
HB: Mom! You’re not supposed to wear your bra, it has a bra in it!
QB: Its so small it wouldn’t support one boob of mine, get this thing off me, I can’t breathe! Pull on it, quick – but not too hard, the seams are Chinese, they’re not made for this kind of tension!
Ok, next ensemble – electric green v-neck workout shirt and black yoga pants (because black is slimming).
QB: Oh Honey, did you know that those pants had Old Navy stamped on the ass? It looks like a billboard!
HB: Oh shut up, your upper arm fat is eating your cap sleeves.
Queen B. started digging through the bag, “Isn’t there anything larger than 2T in this bag? We need some woman clothes, do they have yoga burqas?”
We put on the least offensive of the purchases, and decide to try out some yoga moves.
QB: We have to do this here, because if this Chinese spandex is going to let loose, it should be in the privacy of home.
HB: Agreed. No one should witness this.
QB: We are going to rock this yogi class thing!
HB: Mom, its yoga, not yogi! Next time take your socks off.
Next Up: Yoga Class! Stay tuned…