You know you’ve gained weight when you try to throw on a summer blouse from last year and you can’t get your arms through the sleeves… Yeah, this actually happened this morning. The cuff of my short sleeve shirt wouldn’t pull up past the crease in my elbow. Maybe it’s because my biceps are so huge! Except that I can’t even do 1 pull-up / push-up (that’s one of either, not one of both). I tried a few times to shove it on, but to no avail. As a bonus, my co-op still has the heat on. That combined with my super-mutant-ability to instantly shvitz at the thought of physical exertion meant that I was a sticky mess, making it that much more impossible to force my (now swollen – even fatter) arms through the sleeves. I looked a little like a Tyrannosaurus Rex – tiny arms and a giant head, growling the entire time. Although I don’t think ol’ T-Rex knows half the expletives that I was spitting out through clenched teeth.
The solution is always in the kitchen, though! Don’t worry, I didn’t butter myself into my shirt. I scooted — bumping into the doorway, of course — to my closet-like kitchen and grabbed my kitchen shears. As an aside, my kitchen is so small that I can touch cabinets on either side of the room if I reach out arms – that is if they’re not half-jammed in my shirt because they’re stuck. Anyhoo – I quickly cut the inside seem at the bottom band of each sleeve and voila! I now have use of both my arms! I love those damn kitchen shears, which growing up my father called his “infamous scissors.” Not really sure why… but since English is his second language, I just gave him a bye on that one.
Sure, I could have just changed shirts, but that would be like letting the shirt win… “You think you’re too good for me shirt?!? I’ll show you…”