leaving my assues behind

There are questions I don’t need to ask another single human being cause I already have the answer. Like What’s the best season? duh. fall. And Chips or chocolate? Chocoeffinlate. Also, The meaning of life? easy… eating. and napping. But one very important question that I often ask, Does my bum look big in this?! And you better say NO!!! Notice the distinction, Does my bum look big? NOT, Is my bum big? Asses are serious business to us women.


The other morning I felt particularly rough. I had stared at the ceiling most of the night, frustrated, listening to Mr P’s nasal symphony. Just me and Mother menopause. I always feel rotten when I don’t get sleep and rotten loves to focus on all the crap. Like the menobelly, the half painted bedroom, the 3 essays due by midnight, the grocery list, the wrinkly neck, the 11th day of my second period of the month, you get the picture. Basically, I was pretty sure my life was nothing but a big pile of rotten. So I decided to go for a run.

Fifteen minutes in, I WAS IN THE ZONE. ZONINGThe flow was flowing. I was brave. beautiful. unstoppable. Menobellies and wrinkly necks fell away. Would those 3 essays matter in 5 years??? NO! Triumphant fist pump!!! Around 5km, the inspiration was pouring through my veins. I was writing a story…called Boston Strong and it told about my road to the Boston Marathon. Tears threatened to spill over as I imagined crossing the finish line. Tom Petty blared from my iPod, You can stand me up at the gates of hell but I won’t back down!!! I sang along at the top of my lungs. As I neared the finish line, crowds cheering, perfect ponytail bouncing, I sucked in my gut and smiled for the cameras and th……… HONK!!! I snapped out of the zone and back into the middle of this rotten turned great day!!! A driver in a fancy sports car, Camaro or Corvette or something like that with a big swoopy front end, was signalling for me to go ahead and cross.

Now the thing is I didn’t need to cross; I was turning right! But you guys I was in the flow! Plus, I really dug this guy trying to be nice so I thought, What the heck! I’ll turn after I cross! It’s something I’ve taught my kids, When people are trying to be nice, be gracious….Even if you don’t want a cupcake, take the cupcake cause the cupcake maker is proud! Hell, feed it to the birds if you want, but take the friggin’ cupcake! So I pretended to be going that way and crossed over so the guy would feel good about his cupcakes. I even sucked in my menobelly and gave him a huge smile that said, This is the best cupcake I’ve ever tasted! As my feet hit the sidewalk on the other side, he revved his engine, roared away and shouted out the window,


I don’t know if he saw the birdie chasing him down the road…….sorry guys, but what an asshole!! And I didn’t even want a cupcake in the first place. 

The thing is….I didn’t ask for his opinion. I hadn’t given a single thought to my ass this morning and not once had the thought crossed my mind that it looked even slightly big. I started to run again, thinking hard about what had just happened. Never had a stranger insulted my appearance, AND ESPECIALLY NOT MY ASS, THE HOLY GRAIL OF DO NOT INSULTS!!! not that I could remember. And that seems like a memorable event.

We women, we’ve always had assues. That is, issues with our asses. Maybe because they’re behind us and not easily apparent so we’ve had to rely on others for enlightenment regarding the condition of said body part. How did my assues start? Probably in junior high when the popular kids tagged me with the nickname, BigBum. Of course, the media doesn’t help …. pushing images of perfect female bodies with perfect little bums constantly in our faces. Perhaps our issues evolved from those assues. I mean if we’re worried about something we can’t see, how can we ignore all that faces us everyday. Like wrinkly necks, menobellys, and oversized nostrils. But important enough to be called matters of concern?! That’s an issue, a matter of concern. I could think of more important matters of concern than my ass.

For starters, that asshole in the swoopy car! He probably has a woman in his life, maybe a girlfriend, or wife, or daughter, for sure he’s got a mother. You guys, THAT’S A MATTER OF CONCERN! 

Pollution. Overpopulation. Education. Global Warming. Inequality. Discrimination. Government. Poverty. Waste.    M.A.T.T.E.R.S  O.F  C.O.N.C.E.R.N.


  • What am I going to eat today?!
  • Am I happy?
  • Are my children good?
  • What about dinner?
  • How is Mr P’s sore hip?
  • How many days till Christmas?
  • Did I mention food?

By the end of my run, I was over my ass and that asshole. And thinking about issues that mattered. And one thing I knew for sure. Regardless of our assues, we’re all the freakin’ same!

“Whether one is rich or poor, educated or illiterate, religious or non-believing, man or woman, black, white, or brown, we are all the same. Physically, emotionally, and mentally, we are all equal. We all share basic needs for food, shelter, safety, and love. We all aspire to happiness and we all shun suffering. Each of us has hopes, worries, fears, and dreams. Each of us wants the best for our family and loved ones. We all experience pain when we suffer loss and joy when we achieve what we seek. On this fundamental level, religion, ethnicity, culture, and language *or ass size make no difference.” – Dalai Lama

*because ass size has nothing to do with it!

And this is the ass that Kim built! 

Am I the only one with assues? Or issues? What about you? 



3 thoughts on “leaving my assues behind

  1. First; I’d beat kittens to death with puppies for that ass! Although I could just say I got the double platinum set. Second; I like to think that a guy who yells things like that to anyone, let alone a total stranger, will end up chained to a post in the basement of a woman who has an ass of any size and finally snapped. Third; menopause is awful. You already knew that. http://thecomfortablecoop.com/2016/07/11/menopause-and-wh…-should-avoid-it/

    Liked by 1 person

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