At Least She’s Still Got It

i had it. it may even still be here somewhere. but it sure has moved around a lot. for years i indulged in bralessness, wearing halter tops and backless or frontless doodads without a second thought. i used to pride myself on my tiny waist. in a way, i even enjoyed my wide hips ’cause they made my waistline all the smaller. and i may be the only white woman in america who loves having a solid, ample ass. after all, they didn’t start calling me wiggles in 4th grade for no reason. (the full, formal name was wiggles fanny.)

but then i hit 50, and i hit it hard. my boobs exploded and dropped in one fell swoop. my midsection thickened, an agony candace bergen understands all too well. weirdly, my hips got thinner. thanks a lot, that adds to the column effect perfectly. my ass, of course, has a life of its own, with which i would never interfere. the single unchanged body feature are my cankles. i’ve got stumps directly attached to my feet, my double-wide, high arched, short, pancake feet.

so, a few extra curves on hot pants, whose shape is so ideal that mah used to mail her suits and shoes cross country, is nothing to whine about. besides, h.p., rule number one: don’t ever look at yourself in those fun house store windows. candlelight is the only way to view oneself.


2 responses to “At Least She’s Still Got It

  1. thanx for the encouragement! we shall endeavor to keep you laughing with the all too true misadventures of our lives.
    and we’ll be reading your posts, too!

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