It's the classic example. Imagine a toddler, face all covered in chocolate, eyes as big as saucers, trying to convince you he did not just eat your Easter bunny. The obvious evidence makes the scene hilarious.
It's not unlike trying to hide sin from God. It's laughable.
And it's certainly not unlike trying to wear your same clothes when you've gained 20 pounds. It's absurd.
Spring has arrived and it was time to dig out the summer clothes. Everything looks dingy and stained. The armpits of all my t-shirts and tanks are discoloured. Anything light coloured is sort of yellowed under the arms and anything dark is bleached out. I have never experienced anything quite like it. It's creepy really.
I can only assume it has to do with hormonal changes, or the medications I'm on, or the fact that hot flashes have turned me into a person who sweats - this is a foreign concept to someone who has spent the last 30 years freezing all the time.
So last weekend I headed off to the mall to buy a couple of new shirts. I tried a few on. It was depressing. I cannot count how many times I muttered under my breath, "Size large. Hmmpft. A large mouse maybe. Damn made-in-China stuff. A large Chinese is not the same as a large Canadian."
It was then that it occurred to me that I really should 'fess up. Yes, I've gained 20 pounds and no, I don't have any intentions whatsoever of doing anything about it. Except to start trying on clothes in a bigger size.
It was amazing how freeing that confession was.
Suddenly the possibilities were endless. Lots of things fit. Cha-ching. My visa card got a workout.
As I dumped everything out on the bed to remove the tags and shove it all into the closet so it looked like I'd had it for a long time, I realized somehow I ended up with a few more items than I intended to purchase: 10 new shirts, 2 pair of pants, 3 pair of capris, 3 new bras and six pair of underwear. Nothing spectacular - just stuff that fits.
Confession never felt so good. And comfy.