Day 125 prompt: Eight

First, business suits were zeroes
Hard to find
Narrow waist, hips, sleeves …
Even with a sweater and padded A cups
Wiggle room

Soon the zeroes announced
Subtle changes in my body
Audible strain from jacket seams
Cutting remarks from waistbands
After even a modest meal

Size two arrived
And stayed a long while
For the childless years
Virtually everything flattered
Colors bold or muted
Skirts of any length
Even split up to the thigh

After baby one came home
Two went to Goodwill
And four took over
Fewer suits, more separates
Often carried by flats
Spiky heels collecting dust
On high shelves

With babies two and three
Came fluctuation
Four, then six, then four,
Then six, six, six …
And a vow to stay there
Forever

The sixy closet holds no suits
But a workable balance
Of professional and casual
A few slim lines
To call out curves
On skinny days
More flowing shapes
To hide the swelling
On fat days

My wardrobe held
For several years
In this comfortable holding pattern
But lately things are shrinking
And I find I’m holding tight
Since child three turned seven
My size is pushing eight