I heard the funniest thing today when I was in the dressing room at one of my favorite stores, “here is that size zero you wanted.” After I heard the sales woman say this, I chuckled to myself. I don’t know why it made me laugh, but it did. I suppose because zero isn’t really even a number. Everyone knows that counting starts at one. You don’t start counting zero, one, two, three. You start at number one. And, I know maybe two people who can fit into a size zero. Why this made me laugh, I still don’t really now. I guess it just sounded kind of absurd. I suppose because women in the Midwest don’t really wear size zeroes. That’s a California thing.
I can’t remember a time when I was a size zero. After all, I am a Polish girl. I do remember being a size 3, but I was a freshman in high school and my hips weren’t quite developed. I remember shopping at the store 5-7-9. By senior year, I was usually a 5 or 7. This used to upset me. I so desperately wanted to stay a size 3. Back in the day, my top priority was fitting into a certain jean size. I’m sure you can relate. Boy, how it all seems so trivial now. My workouts these days consist of tending to my kids, and if I am lucky — I can squeeze a 1/2 hour exercise (usually a Beachbody DVD) some days of the week. I am serious when I tell people, “have a kid, you’ll exercise.”
Who has time to edit their diet to the extreme? Who has time to spend hours at the gym? Oh. Probably the girl at the store that needed that damn size zero. Ha!