Warning to all Small Planets:
It Has Its Own Graveetashunul Pull
Originally uploaded by Fatty Will Rule the World!.
The tapeworm, named "The Boy Who Lived" for his Darwinian ability to eat his siblings in an effort to promote his own survival, grew to be an inch long, developed some sort of genitalia, and then promptly died. It was plenty big enough to see its beady eyes staring at all lookers-on as if to say, "See what life is worth without a woman?"
All sweet wonderful people in life constantly ask me--sometimes on an hourly basis--how I feel. My latest response, "Like a giant Turkducken." This may be her nickname. Fits nicely with the others: please meet my lovely children, Boudreaux, Rufus, and Turducken. I swear someone stuffed a fully grown Butterball down my throat when I was asleep. She is all elbows and knees and is both plenty way up into my rib cage and bouncing gleefully on my bladder. Unless I lean back, I cannot sit on a hard surface without spreading my knees way apart in a way that my Mama taught me was just asking for trouble.
Maternity clothes suck. The ones that go over the belly end up giving one a camel toe (see previous posting), and the ones that sit under the belly constantly fall down, risking the chance of exposing the belly to unwitting passersby, like a drunken potbellied town nuisance. I wonder if they give out citations for this.
I am fully in waddle mode, especially at home. At work, I put all my physical effort into standing up straight and walking properly. This, along with hours spent sitting on my constantly broadening butt, means that by the evening I am exhausted and my back is hurting from the exertion. Therefore, the waddling is rather pronounced in the privacy of my own ass-eye-lum. This, of course, used to startle and concern Bumpus. But he has now gotten used to my swaying gate, as well as to my pajama pants falling down at random times (draw string failure).
The boys want nothing more than for me to get into the swimming pool with them. And yes, Mama, I have done it. I have squeezed my round belly into a swim suit and chunky dunked into that above-ground Wal-mart special several times. It ain't pretty but it gets all the weight off of my swollen ankles. Just be glad I'm not at the boatin' club, doing it in public.
Two days left of going into work...and then I will be free to sit in my pajamas, eat ice cream, and wait wait wait wait wait!
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