Tag Archives: butt

Young Guns

photo

For some reason Azul loves playing “guns” — all the time. He draws guns, he draws his “army men” with guns, we watch Star Wars and reenact the action, he plays with his Star Wars Legos and creates battles, and we play chase, shooting each other, all the time. He has turned everything into a gun, from golf clubs to flower stems, they all end up being weapons. So, of course, Azul and I were running around the house playing attack with our hand guns (you know, where you have your pointer finger out and your thumb up), when I got shot. Azul announced, “I shot you in the butt!” In my best I just got shot voice, I said, “Oh no, not shot in the butt!” Then he started jumping and singing, “Right in the butt! (Pause, pause) You do it in the butt! (Pause, pause) Right in the butt!” (Pause, pause) You do it in the butt! Over and over. It was very catchy and hilarious! After enjoying myself for a few rounds, I stopped and thought, oh, I hope he doesn’t sing that at school.

No Ifs Ands Or Butts.

Today I turn 41. I don’t feel any excitement or disappointment in 41, it is what it is. But, I remember the first time I did feel old, it was not the last, but of course your first is always the most memorable. It was the summer of 2007; I was only thirty-four, just months before I turned thirty five. It was an extremely hot day and I was outside with my best friend Ann Dee and her family. It was the day of her dad’s funeral and burial. It was an old family plot, mostly dust and sand, and the family was responsible for digging the grave. I’m not sure when the miscalculations took place, but when it was time to lower the coffin into the ground, it didn’t fit. So, as you could imagine, it was uncomfortably funny and the coffin had to be pulled out and more dirt dug out of the tight space. Again, it was an extremely hot day and while we waited for what seemed like an eternity for a proper goodbye, I was standing by Ann Dee supporting her in her time of need. That’s when it happened — I felt a bead of sweat slowly rolling down the back of my leg. It was a funeral, so I was wearing a skirt; it was summer time so I was not wearing tights, and obviously the skin on skin contact from my butt cheeks to my thigh was too much. That was the moment I knew I was getting old.

bday

%d bloggers like this: