We all have them. Chances are, you are sitting on yours right now. I can’t see it, but I know it’s there. I’m sitting on mine. In fact, that is one of the more useful tasks it performs, apart from making sure my legs are attached by something more substantial to my top parts.
It’s saved me from terrible injuries while ice skating, doing amateur gymnastics and climbing (falling out of) trees. It has required very little maintenance over the years, and adds more comfort to my life than a thousand home-cooked meals.
It’s my bottom/butt/ass/bum.
Different names depending on different company, I guess.
It has very rarely let me down, apart from some unmentionable stuff over the years. Chances are, because you have one too, you’ll know the ways in which a bum can disappoint you, too. Particularly if you’ve ever been pregnant, or eaten dodgy lukewarm food from the local café. (No, those lightbulbs do NOT provide enough heat to prevent tiny organisms multiplying and rebelling against the other contents of my stomach).
It’s supported me through school, movies and jobs, seldom complaining. It’s cushioned me through plays and lectures. It has tolerated bicycles and fences, and withstood being caned by teachers and bitten by dogs. (Yes, plural). It has been in very cold weather, icy seas and also glowing heat. It has been exercised and rested, and has remained roughly the same shape.
I may be short on real friends, but I’ll always have my butt to fall back on. (Hahahaha, I crack myself up).
It’s a source of immense comfort to me (no, mine is average sized, ok), that we all have them. And that they all perform the same tasks for us, as well as the occasional surprise. Captains of industry have them, Nobel Laureates, catwalk princesses and truck drivers. Babies and grannies, girlfriends and boyfriends, husbands, wives, partners and friends. All have them.
We’d look silly without them, tottering along on fleshless hips, sitting at right angles and unable to wear jeans.
It’s time for us to turn around and acknowledge who has carried whom through all these years: Go on, toast your butt! Nothing wrong with appreciating all the hard work.
I bet you are wondering which body part will deserve a salute next time? You’ll never know, and it is perhaps healthier that way.
It’s saved me from terrible injuries while ice skating, doing amateur gymnastics and climbing (falling out of) trees. It has required very little maintenance over the years, and adds more comfort to my life than a thousand home-cooked meals.
It’s my bottom/butt/ass/bum.
Different names depending on different company, I guess.
It has very rarely let me down, apart from some unmentionable stuff over the years. Chances are, because you have one too, you’ll know the ways in which a bum can disappoint you, too. Particularly if you’ve ever been pregnant, or eaten dodgy lukewarm food from the local café. (No, those lightbulbs do NOT provide enough heat to prevent tiny organisms multiplying and rebelling against the other contents of my stomach).
It’s supported me through school, movies and jobs, seldom complaining. It’s cushioned me through plays and lectures. It has tolerated bicycles and fences, and withstood being caned by teachers and bitten by dogs. (Yes, plural). It has been in very cold weather, icy seas and also glowing heat. It has been exercised and rested, and has remained roughly the same shape.
I may be short on real friends, but I’ll always have my butt to fall back on. (Hahahaha, I crack myself up).
It’s a source of immense comfort to me (no, mine is average sized, ok), that we all have them. And that they all perform the same tasks for us, as well as the occasional surprise. Captains of industry have them, Nobel Laureates, catwalk princesses and truck drivers. Babies and grannies, girlfriends and boyfriends, husbands, wives, partners and friends. All have them.
We’d look silly without them, tottering along on fleshless hips, sitting at right angles and unable to wear jeans.
It’s time for us to turn around and acknowledge who has carried whom through all these years: Go on, toast your butt! Nothing wrong with appreciating all the hard work.
I bet you are wondering which body part will deserve a salute next time? You’ll never know, and it is perhaps healthier that way.
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I've very happy with "a bum is not a hobo" Not only is this a chance to incorporate hoboes into your blog but it is 100% true and accurate.
ReplyDelete@MDL: You want more hoboes? I can give you hoboes. You chose the only safe phrase in the post to comment on. Neatly done.
ReplyDelete