Oooooh dear. My test pants aren’t fitting very well. I’m not kidding.
Eating chips and potatoes and bread and butter and ice cream and ribs (yes, that’s in one sitting) at my in-laws will do that to me… POOF … blow me up like a balloon. And i’m not referring to any of the GOOD parts that could stand to use a little blowing up.
And please tell me that I’m not the only one with test pants.
[EDIT for clarification] – test pants are those one pair of pants that indicate, um, expanding girth. There I said it. I guess I’m the only one. Poop.
