Attention Target Shoppers...

“Attention all Target shoppers, Kim Berry is indeed not pregnant. She has once again accidentally strolled into the maternity section and has not yet realized her mistake.”

Ok, so I have this problem. I shop in the maternity section. I don’t mean to, it just happens. I do most of my maternity shopping at Target because there is no definitive transition from normal apparel to maternity apparel. One minute you’re looking at a Mossimo tank, then you stroll past the Merona pants, then whoops, you’re prego. I have this minor freak-out when I realize I’ve wandered from the appropriate zone. I have visions that everyone I know is huddled in the corner of the nearby fitness apparel section, all throwing out names as to who the father might be. (I just pictured that scene in my head as I was typing and I can’t stop laughing. Nine of you are standing behind the Champion sports bra display staring blankly at each other in total silence. No names, no one can think of a single name to throw out there.) Target should have more maternity signs, or maybe even a little plastic chain divider thing with a sign, “Stop, evaluate, ask yourself if you are pregnant, if not, don’t shop in this section.” Maybe that’s a little wordy, but you get the idea. Anyway, as soon as I realize my mistake, as nonchalantly as possible, I mosey on to the shoes and continue the usual Target circuit. The circuit always ends with me buying the Tear and Share size M&M bag. King-Sized is called Tear and Share these days so you don’t have to feel like such a fatty eating them. Instead you can just say, “I didn’t feel like sharing.”

Armpits, Torsos, and Photos

The following 6 photos have a theme...

I was successfully and easily cropped from each of those pictures. Some time ago, one of the above people commented, "Hey, I needed a picture of myself. I found one of us and just cropped you out. You're really easy to crop." I'm not sure what the appropriate response is..."thanks?" or ..."you're welcome?" In any case, here are the pictures from which I was successfully cropped...

Christmas 06

Christmas 08

Shanon's Wedding

New Braunfels Thanksgiving

Badminton Tournament 07

Paul's and Heather's wedding.

Recently, I needed a passport-size photo of myself. I thought, "No problem, people say I am croppable, this will be easy." I quickly realized this whole croppable thing does not work in my favor. Each time I found a picture that could be cropped and used as a passport-size photo, my face was neatly framed by armpits and torsos...

Armpits and Torsos '06

Armpits, Shoulders, Hand '08

Armpit, Torso, Antlers, the UPS Store

Armpit

Torso and Shoulder

Armpit, Hand, Face

Torso

Armpit and I look naked

I realize I could try to zoom a little closer and eliminate some pits. The problem is that at a certain point zooming becomes awkward. You become a floating face like the kid in the yearbook that was clearly absent on picture day. No one wants to be that misproportioned huge-face kid everyone laughs at when reminiscing about the past. Alas, I guess I will choose to embrace the armpit and torso face-framing, and be grateful that my friends have nice pits.

"He pooped his pants."

I have several friends that have pooped their pants. This thought occurred to me as I was jogging last week. A nice green porta-potty sits at a construction site that I pass when I run. I always think, “If I had to really go and couldn’t make it to the house, I could go there.” It’s kind of a safety net if you will. Last week, the potty was gone. I didn’t need to go, but panic hit anyway when I thought, “What if?” That’s when I started thinking of my friends that, at some point in their adult lives, have pooped their pants.

Now, before you start judging my friends, or decide you do not want to become my friend for fear that you too will someday poop your pants, please know that most of my friends who have pooped their pants have had valid parasite-induced excuses. In fact, most of my parasite laden friends acquired their parasites on mission trips to regions relatively unreached by the gospel. In this case, pooping your pants becomes somewhat honorable. “Wow, you’ve pooped your pants? That’s awesome! I hope I poop my pants someday…” As fun as it would be, I am not writing to tell their names and each of their ridiculously hilarious stories. I am more intrigued at the moment by the actual phrase, “He pooped his pants.”

The phrase itself makes me laugh. About 10 years ago, the word “in” was dropped from the statement, making it exponentially funnier. To say someone “pooped in their pants” is just gross and leaves you wondering why the person made such a socially unacceptable decision. However, to say someone “pooped their pants” instantly turns the situation comical and demands the entire story be recounted to an eager audience. The verbage is just funny. Obviously it would be biologically improbable that someone would literally poop their pants. That would raise serious questions about the digestive inefficiencies of the person involved, and it would certainly not be a joking matter. However, it is, in my opinion, totally funny to use the phrase to explain that someone has accidentally, for some hysterically inappropriate reason, failed to utilize normal sanitation facilities, and has instead, pooped in their pants.

“He pooped his pants.”

It’s just funny.