Rompers are Assholes

Rompers. I love them. They’re super cute, super comfy. It’s a one-&-done fashion choice, much like a dress. If I could wear rompers to work, I would wear them every day. Every. Single. Day.

They do, however, have one design flaw.

Saturday my hunky hubs and I went to dinner with some good friends. One of those rare kids-free nights. I was so excited because I bought a new romper a few weeks ago that I hadn’t had a chance to wear yet. It’s beautiful. White with navy blue embroidery, flowy, and ethereal with a plunging neckline. I knew that plunging necklines and alcohol sometimes equal a peek-a-boo boob so I was extra cautious by covering the nips with some band-aids. Prollem solved!

We Ubered to the restaurant.

Side Bar: if you are EVER in Atlanta and hungry, go to Nuevo Laredo. Order chorizo.  Doesn’t even matter how you deliver it into your belly. Just a side of it- delicious. Chorizo quesadilla- delicious. Cheese dip with chorizo dumped in it- delicious. You get the idea. If you’re thirsty, get the Cadillac margarita. Bam. Mexican food heaven. Ok, back to the night in question.

It was a Saturday evening, around 7pm so there was a fairly lengthy wait. We ordered Cadillacs, grabbed some chips and salsa, and waited patiently for our name to be called. Interesting tid-bit of info: it was unexpectedly windy. Given that I hadn’t accounted for weather behaving like a pissed off two-year-old, I kept having to ensure adequate coverage up top. No worries. After the first almost-exposure of indecency I was aware of the need to brace my chesticles each time the wind blew. Preparedness. Boom.

Eventually our name was called and we sat down, continuing our fun like civilized people, at a table. However, soon enough, nature came a-callin’. I excused myself from the group and naively ventured to the bathroom, unaware of the battle I was about to endure.

As I entered the stall, I remembered that I would have to completely disrobe. Not a problem. It’s a thing with rompers. You can’t just pull your pants down like you can when you’re wearing… well, pants. You can’t just pull your dress up like you can when you’re wearing… you guessed it! A dress. You have to reverse your dressed state from the top. Usually a non-issue for the other, less fancy rompers that I have. However, have you ever tried to take off a shirt by shoving your arm through the neck hole? It’s like trying to dance with an octopus. Or trying to break the embrace of a python. All the while trying to be as graceful as possible because a) I’m in a bathroom stall where, at any time, someone can come in and see my plight through the unusually large cracks in the bathroom door.

Slight tangent alert: Really? Why even have doors on the stalls if I can see right through the cracks? God and everybody know I’m in there. Not just because they know it’s occupied, but because they can see me. ME. Like wave at me and say, “Hi, E! How’s your mom n them doing?” FIX THE CRACKS!!!!!!!!

Ok, back to it. B) I’m trying not to rip my romper with my elbow. ALSO, there are long, decorative ties on my sleeves that I’m trying to keep from getting dirty on the floor AND trying to keep from landing in toilet water. As you can tell, I was a mess.

I eventually wrangled that python, did my business, and made it back to the table after what felt like a few hours. But we learn the best lessons in our darkest hours so here’s what I took away:


Could we please have a trap door? Or maybe the buttons that baby onesies have? Is that too much to ask? Maybe there’s a better option, I don’t know. But I can’t be the only person to experience this unfortunate event while just tryin to look supes cute in a romper!

Suggestions anyone?

Please like & share: