A couple of days ago I was all ready, set, go to start my IKEA story (Mike and I are huge fans of the IKEA stuff. I know in Europe, or at least in Spain -although it might just be my family, really- their furniture is not that highly regarded), but my friend Igor caught me on the Messenger for like a long time, and messed up the moment. So there, I don't feel like talking about IKEA anymore. Instead, I'll talk about me, yeah!!

OK, so this is one of those "¿Qué pasa, es que no tienes abuela?" stories (which is really true, they both died before I got to meet them), so really, if you have important things to do, I would stop reading right now before you waste any more time.

Way before having kids I swore that after I did, I would never be caught dead with 20 extra pounds, in "mommy jeans" and a Winnie the Pooh t-shirt. I had to deal with the extra pounds both times after having the babies  for about oh, 9 months, but both times I got back to my 122-124 weight. For the last 5 years especially I have been going to the gym 4 or 5 times a week, and it's great, I got biceps!!. However, about a month and a half ago my husband suggested a personal trainer (I'm still not sure really why he did, I mean, I looked good... Now that I think about it... ummm, was he trying to tell me something?). Anyway, I said ,why the hell no? And I signed up with Matt, who is pretty crazy, and now, guess what? I am 115 lbs! People, I have never been 115 lbs in my whole life. Those pants I bought in Zara, which were already a little tight but I promised myself I would lose the weight (before I knew I was pregnant with Andoni) finally fit right!! It only took five years!

But what made my day yesterday was going grocery shopping to Walmart. (By the way, I love Walmart, people are always talking crap about Wamart; they don't treat employees right, they buy stuff from China, they blah blah blah... But I always find nice, helpful employees there that welcome me to the store). So I drag the kids around the store for like an hour, they had the decency to behave, which I appreciate, and I finally make it to the registers. I get a nice young girl who looks at me and asks: "Are those your children?" And well, they were, and so I tell her. And she goes: "Wow, you don't look like you had any kids!!"  And right there baby, it's why I eat right, go to the gym, and steer away from the Disney t-shirts.

Now, you probably think I am a vain, vain, self-centered person, that I should mind other and more important things. OK, fine, sure, you're probably right. And really, I do, I care about important stuff, but there is already a lot of people talking about important things, like the US elections (when will they be over, by the way?) and global warming. But today, it's all about me. Besides, did I or did I not tell you that reading this post was going to be a total and complete waste of your time, and you did it anyway?