Fat Girls Can Win Olympic Gold Too!

Have any of you ever remodeled a home? If so, feel free (after reading this stunner of a blog post) to tell me all about it in comments. Because I want (need) to feel not so alone in the following stories of good (fifth ring of hell) times.


Story One: "Fork Over Some Cash"

Big Daddy & I go to the house to be remodeled. Hence forth to be known as: The Shithole.

Upon getting there, we look through it. We lived in this exact same house before the move to North Carolina. But now, we're buying it. Before leaving, we painted everything a lovely, generic, flat white. We Rug Doctored the carpets. We left things nice.

P. Mama: (sniffing the air) "Did the house always smell like.. wet dog?"

Big Daddy: "Yes, we were used to it back then with both dogs here. It'll be fine - just Rug Doctor again and sprinkle some of that good smelling powder on the floors and vacuum it up."

P. Mama: "I think we're going to need new carpet, El'Cheapo."


Story Two: "I'd Like To Shove This Bush Up Your Ass"

A few days later, we were at The Shithole and decided to do yard work. The former owners must have missed their homeland in the Amazonian jungle because they planted every bush, shrub, flower, plant (fucking weed) known to man. Oh, except pot - which could have financed the remodeling if the fuckers would have had some courtesy towards future owners.

After one too many times of having to step into camoflage panties and shit kicker boots to get through the front door, I announced that all of it had to go.

P. Mama: (Sitting on the tailgate of Big Daddy's truck, happily swinging my legs, smoking a Marlboro while supervising him sawing down the rain forest.)

Big Daddy: (staring at me through the droplets of sweat dripping into his eyeballs) "You could come stand here, take the branches from me and put them in that pile so I wouldn't have to keep crawling out from underneath this lilac bush."

P. Mama: (takes a long drag from the Marb, tilts my face to the sun that adores me and exhales, making lovely plumes of grey-blue smoke then slowly sliding off the tailgate, I make my way over to him) "Do you have any gardening gloves?"

Big Daddy: "Yes, just under the tire iron - bring that to me too."

P. Mama: (That sounded like a threat. Cranky Bastard. Guess he doesn't have any gloves.)


Story Three: "John Deere Dead"

It was time to mow the lawn that hadn't seen a chopping in months. So, Big Daddy shows me how to run the riding lawn mower and says, just before I take off in 'Richard Petty speed':

"Don't try to mow the ditch. It's steep. I'll do that when you're done."

I'm having a good time mowing - because why? I can sit my fat ass on a machine that has a built in cup holder. That's why. And then I come to the ditch. I gawk around, trying to locate Big Daddy. I start pondering why I'm not supposed to mow the ditch. Was that a slanderous remark about my chubby?! Is he saying that my weight may tip the mower over?! Dickhead! I shall mow this ditch and show him!

So, up and down I go. Down the slope, swivel around, back up it. I was -almost- finished, he hadn't caught me, I was full of fat bitch pride when all of a sudden..

I was climbing the steep slope and the mower did a wheelie. I was the Evil Keneivel of riding lawn mowers. And allll of my weight suddenly shifted straight to my ass. It was going to flip over and crush me!

My life and the picture of my little, pudgy hands & feet sticking out from the underneath the John Deere death machine, on the front page of the local paper, flashed before my eyes.

Adrenalin shot through me and in a dismount worthy of perfect 10's at the Olympics - I spread my legs wide enough to clear the seat and launched backwards, landing on my flip-flops, neatly pivoting to the right in time to watch the lawn mower flip over twice and land wheel-up.

*le fuck* (Where is Big Daddy?)

Awww, there he is, sprinting towards me on his bum knee, terrified because he almost lost the love of his life in a horrific lawn mowing accident.

Big Daddy: "Didn't I tell you not to mow the ditch?! Shit, look at the lawn mower!"

P. Mama: Lawn mower?! LAWN. MOWER?? What about me?? Didn't you see that amazing jump off of it?? Have you ever seen a fat girl move that fast?? How about NO." (Fucker.)