I decided to travel with style yesterday. I wore my black maxi dress, black and white stripped cover up, and adorable sandals.
As I was walking through the airport, I immediately realized I forgot to pack an extremely important item: body glide (aka the anti-chaffing miracle worker).
At first, my rubbing thighs didn’t bother me. However, once Britt picked us up from the airport and we started walking to the burger joint – I was in big time pain.
Now, I did pat down my big ol’ thighs with some baby powder before we left, but that only lasted about 35 seconds before the chaffing took over my life.
“Babe, I am not sure if I can make it,” I said to Justin.
He started laughing.
“You got this!” He said, encouraging me to fight through the pain.
I would make him stop every few blocks so I could separate my legs and give myself a break.
“Will you be embarrassed if I put my dress between my legs and try to walk?” I asked him.
“Do what you gotta do!” J said back
That was a bad idea. And I looked ridiculous, so I gave up.
After about a mile (the longest mile of my life probably), Justin said, “We should be here.”
I looked around with no signs of the burger joint…
Thankfully, it was just a block up the road!
I started giving myself an internal pep talk, “You have done five half marathons – you can make it!!”
Once we got there, I rushed to the bathroom trying to think of something to relieve the pain.
I tossed down my bag and cover up on the ground and rushed to the kitchen sink to apply cold water to my burning thighs.
Is this real life?
As I went to pick up my bag, I realized the toilet was leaking. My new Vera Bradley backpack was soaked with piss water.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I screamed so loud the kitchen staff probably heard me.
Then I picked up my cover up, which was also completely soaked.
I did the walk of shame to my table am found Justin sitting there drooling over which burger to order.
I told him what happened and he started laughing- this really is just another day in my life full of awkwardness and bad luck.
“Hey, I live by your theory,” Justin said. “Never trust a girl if her thighs don’t touch.”
We both laughed and I went to eat a French fry.
Side note- I asked for ranch dressing to dip my fries in and the server thought I was crazy + told me they don’t have ranch dressing…must be a Midwest thing!
Then my inner-self started talking, “Your thighs touch because you eat burgers with bacon and fries.”
I looked at Justin, who was smiling at me and said, “How is everything?”
“Wonderful,” I said.
I’m on vacation.
I’m almost 22 weeks pregnant.
I picked up another fry and popped it into my mouth.
My thighs will always touch. And that’s fine. My self-worth is not measured by the size of my thighs.
So we enjoyed our first lunch in DC and I waddled (literally, waddled) my way to CVS.
“Where is the chaffing cream?” I moaned with desperation.
“Do they have a big thigh section!?” Justin asked.
Oh yeah, right next to the big booty isle, J!!
I gave up and found some lotion – this will get me home!!
“Where are you going to put that on?” Justin asked.
“A dark alley, a bush – I don’t care!” I said.
Thankfully, a Dunkin Donuts was across the street so I ran into the bathroom.
What a relief.
So, what we did we learn yesterday?
Never travel without body glide.
Don’t walk 1.5 miles in a maxi dress.
And never trust a girl if her thighs don’t touch.
Final side note: If your thighs don’t touch, I am only kidding. Good for you – now go eat a burger and fries (with ranch dressing ).
PS I am blogging from my cell phone, so please excuse any extra typos and the lack of pictures!
One thought on “Never Trust a Girl If Her Thighs Don’t Touch”
Gold Bond Powder works wonders too.