The first thing I thought about when I woke up today was a rude remark made to me 29 years ago. I was a young chick of 30 on my way to our friend's wedding with my husband. As we were approaching the church, on the walk-way, an old battle axe (about my age now, ha ha...) felt compelled to run from behind us, put both hands to her face dramatically and say these words to me. "Excuse me, dear...I hate to say this, but... you look like an ironing board." "Thanks for the compliment, you shriveled-up old prune! You hag! You dried up old buzzard!" That's what I should have said, but what I really said was, "I know". I know why she thought I looked like one. I was wearing a raw linen skirt that was the color of many ironing board covers, and I was slim - too slim for her tastes, but who was asking? The worst thing about it was that she was so intent on making sure everyone around heard what she had said. It's always nice to get that kind of attention, don't you think? "Ehhh, the dirty......"
Now that I'm older and wiser (but not much), I wish I could go back to that place and do what I didn't do then. If I were to do that and she made the statement again, I would say, "Excuse ME, you old biddy, I hate to say this, but you look like a pile of dried vomit and you smell like it too." Actually, I heard she was dead, so I guess I can just spit on her grave...
That wasn't the beginning of letting people put me down but it is the last. The only person that gets to do that is me, and the way I'm packing on the pounds lately, I think I look more like a pot-bellied stove. I can say it; I'M the pot-bellied stove!
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