“Hey Mom, you forgot something”

My mother, God love her, departed this world in 2011 leaving behind six daughters, a dozen grandchildren and a few great grandchildren—all a loving testament to who she was.

I have no quarrel with these leave-behinds. In fact, I call them family.

But, recently, as I gazed at a photo of two friends and I walking arm in arm—one that was taken from behind us, might I add—I realized Mom had left behind something I never asked her for and have no intention of keeping.

Her ass.

She would throttle me for saying that. The picture of couth, she would much prefer bottom, rear end, bum. Anything but ass. Sorry, Mom. Journalists just tend to tell it like it is.

As I gazed at said photo, which was texted to me, I believe I texted my friends something brilliant along the lines of: “What is my mother’s ass doing on my body?”

Don’t judge. It was late, people.

None of them answered me, which is sure confirmation for me that I am correct in my assessment of my hind quarters. Or, they just did not want to discuss asses after midnight, preferring to go to bed. Which is why they are my friends—an oh so sensible lot.

Regardless of response or a lack thereof, there was no mistaking that curve in the photo. I knew exactly who was behind it, gene-wise.

Mom on fence1Mom on fence

Don’t get me wrong. My mother, in her day, was a catch. A pretty and intelligent cheerleader, a Navy nurse during WWII, she had her share of suitors. But, as she became an executive and had children—and sat at a desk much of the day—her shape changed.

Did I mention I work at my computer for hours and hours each day?

Ah, now you’re starting to get the picture, without having to look at the actual picture I was texted—and don’t ask for it. I won’t show it to you. My friends will have to go into the witness protection program if they show it to you.

Had my mother decided to share the wealth amongst her six daughters—leaving each of us only our rightful fraction of her ass—I would have no quarrel. After all, it wasn’t unattractive. Divide it by six and it would give us each just a bit of junk in our trunk. Instead, I seem to be carrying the full load of luggage. (And truthfully, I would not dare to mention if my sisters are. I may share in this blog but will be sharing a dinner table with them this weekend. No need to start war games–I am the youngest and smallest by far, and outnumbered.)

Yep. Me and JLo with the rear baggage. Except hers gets worked out by a very wealthy trainer on a daily basis.

Your smarts, Mom, I am happy to carry on. Your public speaking abilities? Absolutely. Your pretty feet, beautiful nails—yep. I’m even willing to accept my somewhat Germanic nose, albeit grudgingly.

But I draw the line at rear quarters of any kind. I have enough of my own—I do not need yours tacked on for good measure.

It is clearly time to clear some junk out of my trunk.

I think my mother will be chuckling as she watches, considering it payback for my sassy years. Here’s to taming glutes the way my mother tried to tame me–and here’s to a at least a modicum of success before the next bathing suit season hits.

 

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38 Comments Add yours

  1. Kat says:

    I’ve begun to accept my “inheritance” too, LOL!

    1. candidkay says:

      :). As the mother of boys, I know I’ve not visited it unto the next generation but somehow fear that it will appear in a great granddaughter who will wonder who the culprit is:).

      1. candidkay says:

        Glad it made you chuckle:).

  2. This made me giggle!

    I absolutely loved this tribute to your mama! Leave it up to our moms to give us something that the whole world gets to see. Me? I inherited my mom’s short legs and penchant for inserting my foot in my mouth 🙂

    1. candidkay says:

      I think it’s their way of getting us back for sassy teen years:).

  3. Exactly!!! OF COURSE that came from my father’s side, certainly NOT from her.

  4. I thought of you yesterday as my mom’s ass paid me a visit in the Target dressing room mirror. Later I made the mistake of sharing with my mother that I needed to invest in a standing desk and haul my trunk-junk back to the gym to tone and lift it back to its proper locale. I didn’t mention to Mom that the ass staring back at me brought back childhood memories of HER frantically searching for a towel while my wild brother and I created havoc at her feet. Mom gave me a bland “hmmm” and then said, “You should definitely get on that. There was a slew of great aunts on your father’s side with ample rears. From what I hear, theirs started spreading around forty and only got worse from there. It’s likely in your genes.” AHHHH! Thanks, Mom. And…I’ll add that line to the list of things never to say to my own children.

    1. candidkay says:

      Oh, I’m howling:). You gave me a good laugh! Not only because of teh “ample rears” being in your genes–but the fact that OF COURSE it’s your father’s sisters’ to blame. LOL.

  5. Loving the photos of your mother! Here’s to getting your tush J-Lo ready for next summer! I’m pretty sure I got my mom’s figure from the waist down (although I’m significantly heavier than she was). And thankfully I got my paternal grandmother’s bust (wink)!

    1. candidkay says:

      My tush and I thank you:). Nothing wrong with junk in the trunk! Celebrate that body of yours.

  6. Lots of men love voluptuous women so you may have more admirers than you know! They’re just behind you.

    1. candidkay says:

      “They’re just behind you.” I’m howling! You’re on your game today:).

  7. I spent years hating my behind and am still a little amazed at what childbirth and middle age have done to it. But dammit! It carried two babies and captured the attention of the man I love. So here’s to our shapely butts! Anyone who criticizes mine is just an (wait for it …) ass! 🙂

    1. candidkay says:

      Oh, brilliant :-). I like that logic as well as the wit!

  8. Aunt Beulah says:

    I think you made us laugh with this post, Kay, because so many of us can relate. My younger brother once snapped a photo from the rear of my sister and me wading in Yellowstone Lake. When he showed it to us, we tried to wrestle him down and destroy it, but he evaded us and kept it for years as blackmail. For that same number of years he called us the butt sisters: Lotta and Bigga.

    1. candidkay says:

      LOL. That sounds like something a brother would do :-). I am surprised the two of you could not wrestle it from him. I’m sure you’ll be more prepared next time :-).

  9. RuthsArc says:

    LOL. What a wonderful piece of writing. I think we all get a bit scared when we glance in the mirror or catch a reflection and our mother looks back at us. I will keep dying my hair for this reason, even though friends say that silver looks great on me!

    1. candidkay says:

      So very true:). You think we would not mind looking like them, after all the hard work they do for us!

  10. Ha! This made me laugh. Two reasons. The first is that you say “ass” but here in Australia that means a donkey…and we say “arse”. But I know exactly what you mean – I inherited my aunt’s arse (from my father’s side) and my mother’s appallingly awful knees. Thank the universe for trousers! I very rarely wear a skirt, and any dress I wear must be below-knee-length. So we all have our bits that we hate and hide. I’ve joined the ranks of JLo, though, and for the past few months have been going to a personal trainer twice a week – and boy, it’s making a difference (not to my knees though). Everything’s moving (if not disappearing) and my shape is changing – and I’m SO much more flexible. I feel great. It’s a good investment!

    1. candidkay says:

      Oh, I’m laughing. I love it all, but ant get beyond inheriting my mother’s donkey:).

  11. heyjude6119 says:

    Oh I remember seeing my mom’s panties as a 12 yr old and thinking my butt is never going to be that big. I suspect my butt is bigger. LOL
    My problem area though is my gut. Having said that, I’m working on loving my body just as it is. Because in reality, even if we were to take care of the problem area, we’d just find something else to criticize. Women are way too critical of their bodies. That is one thing I envy about men. They don’t obsess over their bodies. I guess what I want on my tombstone, is not that I had a great body. I want it to say something about my character, my faith, the way I lived. I really don’t see anyone inscribing, “Here lies Judy. She was enormous!”

    Good post!

    1. heyjude6119 says:

      P.S. What I inherited from my mom was some of her attitude, her bluntness, her love of music and singing. To give a perfect illustration of my mother, I’ll share an anecdote. Once when my parents were in Wal-Mart, they were needing help in the garden department. Not being able to find an available clerk, my mother found the nearest intercom handset and announced to the whole store that someone needed help in the garden department.
      I could see myself doing this some day.

      1. candidkay says:

        I think you’re right on all counts–we put too much emphasis on our bodies, but it is no wonder, given the messages advertisers, etc. give us. We’re brainwashed from a young age to think of ourselves as decorative, even if we have a brain. I love your mother’s chutzpah:). And guts? Well, so many of us struggle there. I must say, I do believe it has to do with our gut health–and all the gluten, additives, etc. we eat makes our gut unhealthy. As I wrap the Whole 30 program, I can tell you I haven’t felt this good in a LONG time. And I think it’s because my body has been given a chance to heal itself.

      2. heyjude6119 says:

        So glad you’re feeling better!

  12. Why such fear? It is one of the first things that men notice, and in all the comments through my life that I have heard from them, they all have different likes and dislikes. There is no such thing as a universal ‘not liked’ ass. They appreciate all shapes and sizes, and to be honest, I think it is an instinct rather than some observed choice.
    And to be honest, I think you should put a photo up…and a survey…I think you may be surprised, because at the end of the day, it is you that need to accept you, regardless of others.
    Have faith in what is attached to that ass, so far she has been quite attractive, very intelligent, so funny, and even a great story teller…and you never know, the man of your dreams could see that cute ‘shape’ and fall in love on the spot 😀

    1. candidkay says:

      Thank you, Mark:). I’m in for all of it but the photo vote! Only a man would suggest that:). Even if he is a very wise and kind man!

      1. It was actually to allow you to ‘see’ how you felt about that 🙂
        It is in accepting that georgeous ‘tail’ for exactly as it is, you will be free of its emotional holding pattern.
        This world puts waaaaay to much fear into women if they don’t have this or that…just shake that booty Kristine, and let the world ‘know’ you accept your ‘tail’ EXACTLY as it is.
        The truth is, even if you had equipment like Niki Manaj’s, I can see the glow from your heart young lady, and it is in accepting you exactly as you are that has more worth than any other thing on this world my friend 🙂
        Mind you, it was a great tale (‘tail’)…I’m sorry, i couldn’t help that 😀

  13. DeniseBalog says:

    Too funny! Love your “luggage” tail:)Lol

    1. candidkay says:

      I guess you could call it a tale of a tail:).

      1. DeniseBalog says:

        Smile, smile!!! :):):)

  14. Love it all I say! My 21 yr old said the other day, “Thanks so much Mum” sarcastically, for giving me your bum! I said “My pleasure! use it well!” At least it’s not a part of the body we see that often Kristine Ha! 😬

    1. candidkay says:

      Why do men not have this genetic issue?:)

      1. Well they do in a way! My husband went bald very early on thanks to his Dad’s genetics and so I guess “hair” might be their big ass!! 😉

      2. candidkay says:

        Lol. “Hair might be their big ass.” Well said.

  15. I have my mother’s ass, too. I think it’s a conspiracy.

    1. candidkay says:

      It’s their way of paying us back for our past sins:).

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