A Pair of Suspenders, Please.

I’m blown away these days by how low “low-rise” pants have gone. I mean, seriously, if I can see the top of your pubic hair—nasty. In the early days of the low riders, when the crack of your butt was still covered, I was thrilled. See, being a midget means that everything about me is short, including my rise. For you non-apparel oriented folks out there, the rise refers to the length between your crotch and the given waist line. (Could someone give me a better word that crotch? Crotch is such a harsh word!) Anyway, my short rise meant that first generation low-riders were actually a normal fit for me. No more pants an inch under my bra!! Then low went south. Way south. When the zipper of your jeans has three zipper teeth, why bother?

Last night I was wearing my favorite capris (that are really pants on me) from Isis. They are a little low, but not butt-crack low. I’ve managed to shed some weight this summer on my own and also form my fasting trip in Greenland where I stopped eating because the group was a bunch of pigs. People, a group of 8 ate FIVE POUNDS of pasta and licked the pot afterwards. I figured I could live off my left thigh in reserves alone so it was better for me to feed the insatiable appetite of the clients first. Anyway, the weight loss has resulted in baggier than normal pants and I find myself hiking them up often.

I’m frying up a pan-o-meatballs (ground turkey-balls to be precise) for my pasta meal last night. Well, they’re frying away and I reach up into the cupboard above the stove to grab some spices. Because I’m a midget, I was extending fingertips and toes. My gut got sucked in and elongated, my pants fell a little low, and my t-shirt rose up as I reached with my body to grab the basil. When I couldn’t reach, I leaned in and butted my belly right up against the rim of the fry pan. Blamo! Burn on the belly! I initially thought I burnt the belly-button but that was actually just grease spattering into the hole.

Thank god for my sample of Kiss My Face after sun soothing gel. It works on frying pan burns too. Tomorrow, I’m going to the mature adult section of JC Penny to get me a good old pair of high rise pants. Yep—you got it, the old lady kind. Then I can actually show off the fact that I do have a waist and I am not a stump. Oh yeah, no more burns either. Does anybody have a bandage?