Quite often, I look back on a day or night out with B and wonder what on earth made us do whatever we came up with. Last night was one of those occasions and this morning I was surveying the photo evidence on my phone, kind of giggling and being a bit concerned at the same time. It was date night, to celebrate 22 months together. The actual monthly anniversary is actually tomorrow on the 4th, but because Monkey is with us again from today and we’re both off work today, we decided that yesterday was a better option for celebrating.
Said and done. I poured myself into my leopard print Current Elliott jeans and a silk blouse. I love those jeans, but I encounter the same problem with those as I do with most other jeans, due to a very round backside in combination with a small waist: they fit over my bum and tighs, but there’s a gap at the waist band by my lower back, which means I spend an inordinate amount of time pulling them up. Almost without fail, I have to have all jeans I buy altered to be taken in at the waist line by a couple of inches. By the time I’d had to pull them up several times at the start of our date, I made several mental notes to hand them in for alteration. Why am I pointing all of this out? Well, my point is that they’re a lovely pair of skinnies and it seems I’m not as slim as I thought, given that B could fit into them. Fine, they’re a little loose on me, mostly around the waist as I explained, but come on!
Anyhoo. A beautiful steak and salad at an Argentinian steak house followed by cocktails at Carvosso’s here in Chiswick, we headed home, tipsy and giggly. And it’s what happened next that I today am trying to work out how it came about. I honestly cannot remember how or why, but suddenly we’re swapping jeans. Me pulling on B’s dark blue jeans (that are NOT baggy on him but thankfully hang off me like a sack of potatoes) and B wriggling into aforementioned skinnies and miraculously manages to do them up. He’s not fat. He’s 6’2 and well built, certainly not skinny, but he suddenly fits into a pair of cropped skinny jeans waist size 29. His normal waist size is 34.
In my defence (defence of my real or imagined slender figure), they’re stretchy. I feel I’ll lose a bit of confidence if I keep mulling this over, so let’s just leave it there. Well, except for asking that question I often ask after whatever crazy event: WHY?
22 months. On the one hand it doesn’t seem that long, given how I still get butterflies in my tummy with the same intensity as I did the first time he kissed me. On the other, it seems like we’ve been together forever, so well do we know each other and I struggle to imagine what life would be like without my best friend. Luckily for me, I don’t have to imagine it.