My being a gym-junkie has paid off, in a very funny way. Two nights ago, Mike and I met up at the gym. After picking the boys up from the Kids' Club we all went next door to the grocery store. A normal event. The problem? I'd forgotten to pack my belt with my after-workout clean clothes. So, I walked around the store, pulling up my pants every chance I had. Thankfully, we made it home without incident. Mike was getting Zach changed and Matthew ready for bed while I carried groceries up the stairs. I like to load myself up like a pack-horse in order to make as few trips as possible. So, laden with multiple plastic bags on each arm, I commenced my summit up the stairs. Unfortunately, there was no free hand for holding up my jeans, so with each step I took, my pants slipped lower and lower. By the time, I got to the top of the stairs, my jeans were completely around my ankles, and I was laughing hysterically. I shuffled to the kitchen to put down the groceries, and then I shuffled down the hall. Matthew took one look at me and said, "Mommy, you look funny. Better come see in the mirror." I assured him that I knew how funny I looked and didn't need to see the proof.