Good morning! OK, I am WELL aware of the fact that I have chronologically hit “middle age.” Fine, I can handle that because, after all people, age ain’t nothin’ but a number and you’re only as old as you feel. (Or in my case, act...which might mean I should still be in diapers.) BUT…on this dark, dark day I realized a basic truth. My body has decided that, with or without me, it’s gonna go right on ahead and go with the number option. Yes, I have developed wings!
For all the guys who read this thing, wings are another of the many signs to a woman that gravity has caught up with her age. It’s that AWESOME state when your upper arms, much like your “girls,” begin to sag, bag, and just generally turn to warm jelly-sacks.
You’ll recognize the arrival of the dreaded wings the day you raise your arm to apply the requisite deodorant…and find the underside of your arm has remained in place alongside your rib cage. (WTH!?!) I’m sorry, but the elder women in my family NEVER warned me the day would come when I’d need two hands to put on my pit-stick, one to apply and the other to hold the flesh-drape out of the way.
When did this happen anyway? The last time I checked I had arms that moved as one appendage. Now? I have appendages that move in stages…arm moves *lengthy pause* under-side flesh moves. Oh and the heat? Adds a whole new dimension to the process! Arm moves *lengthy pause followed by the peeling of the humidity-velcroed flesh off of rib cage* under-side flesh moves. *hangs head in sorrow*
Y’all remember those toys from when you were a kid…the ones with the colorful critter hanging from a forked piece of plastic and when you squeezed it, the critter would swing back-and-forth? Yep, when I’m totally bored, I can simply raise my arm and revisit that game. I’ve discovered that if I lift said arm and then repeatedly flex my bicep, I can create a very similar swinging action with my flesh-drape. (It helps to get the swing going if you give it a preemptive “push” with the other hand. This way? You can get it going fast enough it almost does a full loop!) (OK, maybe I'm easily amused, but that is so NOT the point of today's post!)
Please understand that I am not a vain woman. Really! But, there are some things that are hard for me to accept…usually because they cause me some level of discomfort or inconvenience. (OK, not vain, but definitely all about my personal comfort!) And these damned wings? Are vying with the lady-lumps for pit-space when I lay on my side. No flippin’ joke!
It was bad enough last night that, after reaching down and removing both Lefty and flesh-drape from the stupid armpit, I fell asleep fantasizing about designing a harness I could wear to bed that would keep shiz-nit where Mother Nature intended it to be. I mean, sure. I could wear a boulder-holder (or in my case a pebble-pouch) to bed, but that would only take care of Lefty. What about my wing?
I guess for the time being, I’m stuck sleeping on my back. *sigh and extensive use of four-letter words* At least until the saggage reaches the point where even then I’m lying on the flesh-drape. Or the flesh becomes drape-y enough that I can no longer place my arms snuggly at my sides, since I NEED that in order to keep the girls from snuggling down-under for a long winter’s nap in the pit-zone.
I need to know if the day is coming where I’m going to have to fold it up like an accordion? Am I soon to be relegated to long sleeves at all times as a defense mechanism? (Will gravity ever stop sucking?)
On the up-side, I have discovered that when hubby steals the blankets, I can actually wrap my upper body in the warm folds of…”me.” Hmmmm…maybe there are some advantages to this thing. Just think, with a little ingenuity and a tube of super glue, I could attach them permanently to my sides and become a human flying squirrel!
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| This totally IS a disguise! I'm wearing a BLACK skully do-rag instead of my normal HOT PINK skully do-rag. Also? I'm not wearing my glasses, and that ALWAYS worked for Clark Kent! |
Oh ladies…think about it. I could be the next Super Hero! I could call myself “The SAG!” (I’m SO sorry about that visual folks! *takes a moment to attempt to lasso in the uncontrollable giggle-fit*That one may have gone a little far for even me. But you know what? I’m keeping it in here; cause it freakin’ ROCKS in its terrible awesomeness!)
With that, I’ll wish you a day filled with nothin’ sticking to anything it’s only supposed to be neighbors with and a good belly-laugh at my expense!
