There are two types of women in this world. Girls either have great butts or great boobs. AND if they have both (without surgery) they're freaks of nature and I can't associate with them. :)
Yesterday, I donned a pair of fancy, albeit second-hand, jeans, and after glancing in the mirror, I gasped. My butt is starting to sag! Sure I'll be thirty-one in February, but does this really need to happen now? Can't I have my butt for a few more weeks?
"Well, no. But it does look different since the pictures of before I was born."
"Of course it does! I was eighteen and now I'm almost thirty-one."
"Not because of that," she said, and I thought she might save herself before saying, "it's because when people have lots of kids, your hips spread."
"Five . . . kids."
"Yeah," she laughed and I LEFT THE ROOM. I've given my kids EVERYTHING and in return they took my butt away!
Then I called my mom. For any of you who've read The Golden Sky, you know my mom loves water, but I hate it. Anyway I called and she said, "I told you, you should be drinking more water."
"Oh, you. You'll say anything to get me drinking water."
"You've still been walking up the stairs a lot, right?" she asked and after saying 'yes' I hung up.
So, it's time to have a funeral for my 'good part.' Maybe I should wear butt pads--then the world will have no idea the joke's on them! Guys will check out my stuffing and I'll giggle--since it's only toilet paper.
Or is it simply time to use wrinkle cream--and exercise?
I tried some butt exercises yesterday where you're supposed to walk on your tip-toes, squat, and flex your cheeks separately with each step. I looked out my front window and a neighbor guy--who wears sweats in the summertime--stared like I'm the idiot. Doesn't he know my butt is sagging--and although it's not a big deal to anyone else it's a sign that I'm aging, mortal, dramatic, and I could die at anytime.
For the sake of humanity--please let these butt flexes save my naturally good part.
In the name of Jesus,