Well you know, it's happened. That thing I dreaded ever since Bryan and decided to have children. Hamish and I were in the bathroom this morning. I'd just done my bizness, and was pulling up my pants when my three and a half year-old son touched my butt, said, "Pink and shiny!" and then, out it came, out from between his pink petal lips: "It's wiggly." My shoulders sank under the weight of it all, and even though I knew what he was talking about, I said, to clarify, you know, just in case, "What's wiggly?" And he said, "Your pink and shiny." I said, "Yeah...Well that's...Yeah." Which cleared up things.Hamish, with his taut and tiny, went on his way, gathering an unseasonal outfit for the day while I thought about liposuction and spirituality, the kind that revels in cellulite and lack of muscle tone, that transcends it. And after dropping the kids off at school, I went out and bought not one, but two pairs of tight skinny jeans. Discounted of course. But skinny. Tight. One pair is even high-waisted. And faded. Am I a glutton for punishment or a naive non-waif who still believes in fairy tales? And what exactly does that last part mean? I just feel...wiggly. Yet closer to you, and closer to that post-partum resolution to start jogging again. Give me an S. Give me an I. Give me a G. Give me an H...What's that spell? I don't know anymore.
1 comment:
We can't all have taut 3 1/2 asses but, hopefully, once gravity takes over we know not to wear underwear on our heads anymore. If your ass is at all wobbly let me just say that you do a fantastic job at hiding it. That photo of you during the whole cupping post? How I wish my tummy was that flat, it wasn't even pre-babies. You're not naive and you're much closer to waif than non. Our culture is insane about any form of aging, so whaddya say are you with me on a move, or at the very least long trip, to Europe where women over 30 are still appreciated?!
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