It really is true what they say, as you age, it’s harder to loose weight cause by then your fat and your body have become really good friends. (By the way, does anybody know who “they” are?? “They” seem to know an awful lot, but no one knows who “they” are. Again, I’m just sayin’.)
Hips — A derivative of the word “hippo.” When looking at one’s aging hips, words like saddlebags or two angry raccoons in a sack fighting to get out, or just “Oh My God! Get Out of the Way!” come to mind.
That cute perky little butt of yesteryear is now a huge cushion that rumbles along behind you with such force that it frightens small children. Hell, if it's big enough, it’ll frighten everybody!
Ladies, for God’s sake, never, and I mean NEVER look over your shoulder into the bathroom mirror when you have just stepped out of the shower!
(Safety Warning: If you plan on doing the above mentioned, the Surgeon General recommends removing all razors and sharp objects from the immediate vicinity before proceeding.)
Holy Crap! OMG! “What the hell is THAT?,” you scream. You will notice, on closer examination (..and you will look. It’s kinda like a car accident. You know that you shouldn’t slow down and look, but you can’t help it.)
Anyway, upon closer examination, you notice that your butt now resembles a set of Siamese twin-like watermelons covered in orange peel. And it’s sagging, bringing to mind Dorothy throwing a bucket of water on the wicked witch of the west, while she screams, “I’m melting, melting.”
And to add insult to injury: It’s fish-belly white! Argh. Pluck the eyes from my head. That is a visual that will haunt you for the rest of your life. Now you know why PROZAC was developed.
The next part is an easy conversion because we just slide right on down to “thunder thighs.”
Oh, Dear God! These things rumble along with you wherever you go. If you wear corduroy while jogging, you can start a fire! Who needs “survivor man” rubbing two sticks together? We have corduroy! He is no match for plus sized thighs in corduroy! Vooba, Vooba, Vooba, fire! Yep! Works every time!
You’re still here? A real glutton for punishment, aren’t you? O.K. We’re almost done.
Calves, ankles and feet. Eeeeewwww.
You may notice that the hair on your legs has lightened a bit and that you no longer have to shave them as often. This is because the growth of leg hair has slowed down, enabling you to devote more time to your newly acquired moustache and goatee.
Your calves have now slipped, ever so gracefully, right down into your ankles, developing what is now referred to as “cankles.” Just great.
This means that there is now no discernable separation between your calves and ankles. Wonderful.
What the heck?! What are all of these tiny veins sticking out like a miniature spider web on my ankles? And why are they blue? Is this your body, in a last ditch attempt, trying to make a fashion statement? What, blue goes well with almost everything?
And just when you think it can’t get any worse, you notice your feet.
If, and I do mean IF, you are still lucky enough to be able to bend over your own belly fat, you may be able in some small way, to make them at least presentable by giving yourself a pedicure.
Sand off the heel crags. This may take the use of your husband’s Industrial heavy-duty portable sander. Anyway sand off the crags that have developed on your heels, massage the corns and bunions that have developed over the years from wearing those insanely high “CFM” heels or the “nosebleed,” six-inch stilettos.
Reach down and clip the eagle-like talons that were once your toenails on those cute little piggies.
Who are we kidding? They now resemble fat little link sausages. So! There you have it! Yes, I know. I’ve left out some of the really choice topics — The fact that you can now sneeze, fart and pee, all at the same time. Menopause, hot flashes, night sweats, varicose veins. But these are things that one can’t explain; they have to be experienced!