Giving Thanks for My Poochy Tummy
Last week I was shopping and when I placed my purchases on the counter I couldn’t help but notice the young lady who was behind the cash register. She was very striking;long brown hair, big brown eyes and a bright smile. She was wearing hip hugger jeans and a good two inches of her stomach was showing between the bottom of her blouse and the top of her jeans. Occasionally my mouth gets ahead of my brain and without thinking I blurted out, “You know, I think my stomach was as flat as yours back in 1974.” She looked at me and smiled. Never one to let a silent moment go for long I added, “Of course what was five babies ago and the last two were twins and you wouldn’t believe what having twins does to your stomach muscles.”
She stuffed my purchases into a bag, put in my receipt and said, “Next,” looking at the lady behind me.
Okay, so maybe she didn’t want to hear a middle aged lady whine about her poochy stomach. Or maybe she thought I was weird. Maybe I am weird, I don’t know, but the more I thought about the loss of my once flat stomach, the more I realized that the young girl in the store more than likely didn’t have children and that one day her stomach would be poochy too. That shouldn’t have made me feel better, but it did.
Then I got to thinking about the reasons my stomach doesn’t look the way it once did. The reasons all have names. Nick, Rachel, Justin, Grant and Russell. The twins weighed over six pounds each, almost thirteen pounds of babies makes a woman’s midsection the size of a beach ball. No wonder it was never the same again.
So I left the store with my new blue jeans (not hip-hugging but ones that supposedly flatten your stomach) giving thanks for my poochy tummy and especially the reasons that made it that way.