Thursday, May 27, 2010
This is the license plate I saw while driving to the airport today. 1HTMAMA. Get it? One hot mama? So, I was thinking, that poor lady. I mean, I didn't catch a look at her, so I can't vouch for the fact that she was HOT or NOT, but imagine the pressure. Every single time she gets in her car she has to live up to that license plate. Now, imagine it's a Sunday morning and she just wants to run to the store for a quick donut, you know, a maple bar or something and maybe a bottle of Nesquik with which to wash it down (this is theoretical, mind you, not that I'VE ever done this but still.......) and she's got her hair in curlers, wearing baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt? Perhaps even the sweatpants betray her with "hottie" printed across the bum and the t-shirt says something like "I'm up here, these can't talk". And maybe her face is a bit pocky from some overnight adult acne and there are smudges of mascara under her eyes, not to mention, GASP, undereye circles or bags. You get the picture? This woman CANNOT leave her home, under any circumstances, unless she's dolled up in her updo (perhaps a perky pony) and, at the very least, a Lucy or Lululemon yoga outfit, carrying her Coach carry-all, Prada shades and Clinique lipstick. Because, hello, the license plate says 1HTMAMA, and she has to be, at all times, ONE HOT MAMA! Too much pressure. I mean, can anyone be hot all the time? Can this woman EVER go out in her pj's with a coat thrown over, drop her kids at school and dash into Starbucks for a double tall skinny latte while driving that car? I think not. Because she is 1HTMAMA. I say, tell it like it is. I'm applying right now to get a vanity plate that says FATNFUN. At least I'm honest!