I'm sure it seemed at the time, dear Self, that it was a good idea to try on the lingerie you purchased when you were first married.
However, Self, let me assure you that it was NOT.
Because the only thing less sexy than witnessing 18% more flab test the very precarious integrity of lace and ribbon, is then laying on your bed in a ball and weeping.
I will give you points, Self, for your optimism. Seven years ago when you purchased those silky white undies that brilliantly announce BRIDE in rhinestones, you decided it would be romantic to wear them once a year, on the anniversary of your Missus-ness. Because of course you were going to be small enough to fit in to them for the next 60 years.
Alas, poor Self, you had a nasty discovery only one year later, didn't you?
It was certainly good timing to get married when you did, the thinnest time of your adult life. Many people gain weight in college, but not you, Self! Your distaste for taking extra money from your parents was noble if perplexing, and it shrunk your stomach so small that you could be genuinely full for 5 hours from a single Snicker's bar.
That magical time, just like the recent comeback of New Kids on the Block, was over far too soon.
I just hope Bean finds someone to marry who shares your 22-year-old figure, Self. Otherwise there will be some awkward moments when you insist that she wear your wedding dress at the ceremony.