It's Just a Name

 So yesterday was the day after St. Patrick's Day.  Technically, if you look on your trusty calendar, that means it's still winter.  Look at what I found in our yard yesterday: daffodils in full bloom.  The buds are out on our lilac bushes.  Crocuses galore!!  Our region broke all KINDS of records for temperature, 80 degrees in mid-March.  Can you believe that???  Tell me again why I'm going to Florida next week.  Oh, right.  To see my dad.  Even though it's very warm here, I really AM looking forward to seeing him. 

 So yesterday played out exactly as I thought it would.  I did a bunch of chores. My hubby, even though he was and is sick, was outside commiserating with his pole barn.  Eventually, though, the glorious streak of amazing weather that I just told you about called our names, HEY YOU, and we both put our work aside and strapped the bicycles onto the back end of the Beernut Mobile.  We drove to the lake and then biked ten miles along the roads that ran parallel to the shore.  It was a grand ride!

Next up was Chinese Buffet.  And after we ate, I asked the husband if we could take a quick jaunt over to Aldi's so I could pick up a few groceries that were on sale.  After making my selections, I was standing in line with the groceries, patiently waiting my turn to check out.  Standing behind me was an elderly woman.  And in the lane next to us was a mother who had her little let's-say-five-year-old kid sitting cross-legged in the cart among some pineapples.

"Hey, Mom.  That's one old lady over there!" he exclaimed, pointing at the woman standing in back of me.

"You say you're sorry to her right now, young man!" the mother screeched.

So the kid, with his mournful eyes pointing at the ground, contritely mumbled, "Excuse me.  I'm sorry."  And he repeated this three times. That gave it away.  I knew right then and there that he was well-versed in making apologies for opening up his little big mouth and letting foul things spew forth like a geyser.  And it took only a few moments before he let 'er rip once again. 

"Hey, Mom.  Look at the woman standing in front of the old lady!.  She's a LOT bigger than the old lady!" he bellowed loud enough for everyone in the store to overhear.

I looked at the mother and said, "Gee, your kid's mouth is on a roll, isn't it?"

After I checked out, I sat in the car and told my husband about what took place in the store.  I told him that the words still hurt, even though they came from small lips.  What would the kid have said if he had seen me inside of that store a year ago when I was fifty-seven pounds heavier?  Gee.

I said to the husband, "You know, SOME day, people are going to look at me and the first thing that ISN'T going to come to mind is how freaking FAT I am."  I then gave some suggestions as to what people could think as an alternative.

• "Wow, look at that genius brain just sitting there under that mop of gray hair."

• "Gee, that is one high-powered gas engine if I ever saw one."  Or my last idea, which created a chuckle from the husband:

• Golly, the husband of that sex goddess is ONE lucky fella."

You can call me Fat.  My husband can call me Sugar Plum.  I prefer to call myself  Work in Progress.  You can say it's spring or summer, but really, it's still winter, no matter what the thermometer says.  Really, it's just a name.