I swear I think I might be the married version of Bridget Jones. Not only do I write a diary and/or a blog but I also have Bridgets rather curvey (ever so slightly fat) figure and her well-meaning but ultimately clumsy demeanor which results in an endless series of embarrassing moments. Take this past month for example – I can only compare it to the bloopers from some cheesey sit-com but here it is… It was sports day, the field was packed with children, parents, and staff. Each race was smooth running, fast-paced and slick. That was until one poor…
