Big Booty Britches

After 26 weeks of maternity clothing free life I have made the plunge. I am now the owner of big booty britches, AKA the notorious maternity pants. While I had purchased a selection of fabulous items during the long awaited Internet sales the previous week, I was still without pants. I have found, and my Internet shopping record has proven, that I have special needs. I can't just pick out any pair of trousers from a catalog. You see I had big legs. They are wonderfully strong and shapely and refuse to fit in any pants which fit my waist. I wear a lot of skirts, but they tend to be a little on the so-short-they-make-my-mother-blush side. Everything offered at maternity shops is practical, decent, and likely to get caught in the spokes of my bicycle and kill me. So my mother dragged me to her neighborhood mall, being all ritzy and full of high end shops, and left me to sulk in the far end of the Baby Style shop until I cam out with a pair of pants. She paid for the pants, because we all know I wouldn't have. For $80 I expect some homosexual man's name adorning my heiny, or at least improved ranking with the cool girls in high school. Being ever practical I got the orange pants- orange is a neutral color right? Like I'm going to be able to blend in now that I'm starting to resemble a beached whale. All the pregnant ladies tell you not to put off buying maternity clothes because they are, "like so totally comfy!" What they don't tell you is that the stretchy waistbands and high Lycra content lead to embarrassing situations such as "pregnant plumber's crack" and "wasn't I wearing pants at the last intersection?" This leaves me wondering if wearing a belt with maternity pants is an oxymoron.