What a difference a few years can make.
This picture was taken before my senior sorority formal in the spring of 2005:
Fast forward eight years.
My husband was asked to be an alumni guest speaker as his college fraternity's formal this past weekend.
Subtract some hair (on his part) and add in some hips, extra pounds and a baby belly (on my part) and here you have it:
Damn, we've aged.
Yes, I was the 29-year-old pregnant woman in a sea of drunk 20-somethings wearing mini dresses this weekend.
I could see the pity in those girls' eyes.
And all I could think was ... I used to be you.
Just wait, you will be me in a few years.
(Insert evil laugh here)
That size four and spray tan won't last forever, girlfriend.
One day you will wake up and realize it doesn't matter anymore.
Because if you picked the right date tonight, he just might marry you and love you anyway.
And you'll love him ... even though he refuses to ever smile and look normal in pictures.
Just ONE picture.
Before we left town I went ahead and took the obligatory baby bump picture in the hotel mirror.
This is me officially at the half-way mark.
And that's probably all you'll get folks.
I'm not trying to plaster my belly all over the internet.