T & A (December 5, 2005)

My 8th grade daughter loves her butt. She embraces her butt. She acknowledges with pride and a smile that she has the biggest butt of almost all of her friends. What I would have given for that kind of confidence in Jr. High! Becky has the exact same body type as I did at her age. Were things so different in the 80's that bubble-butts were a thing to be shamefully covered with Wham! sweatshirts tied around the waist? The pop icon when I was in 8th grade was Madonna for crying out loud, and she was still chubby and calling rolling around on the floor "dancing" back then. Could it be J. Lo and Beyonce are to thank for this shift in preferred body-type? I just don't know, but here is the irony. My 7th grade daughter is just as tall and built as my 8th grader and she HATES her flat butt. She says she would give anything for a bigger butt.

So obsessed are they with their butts, that Jason was standing around in the living room waiting for Sarah to finish brushing her teeth, and for me to finish getting dressed this morning, and was subject to a "butt show" while Becky and Amy turned around, pointing at each other's jeans going, "I mean, LOOK at her butt!" Jason, torn between being supportive and feeling slightly perverted, was politely nodding and affirming that they both had great butts. I could hear the conversation digressing as Amy said, "You know, we were just talking about butt-loads yesterday on the bus. I mean, how big is a butt-load?" Jason replied, "A crap-load is bigger than a butt-load". Becky chimed in, "Valerie thinks a sh**-load is bigger than a crap-load". (She didn't say the word, by the way, she wants to live to her 14th birthday next week). I was only getting parts of this conversation, feeling really sorry for my poor husband. I decided to grab my sweater and walk into the living room and said, "Stop tormenting your father." turning to Jason I said, "Honey, do my boobs look okay in this sweater, or should I put on a different bra?" Silence. Jason turned around towards the door, walking slowly and motioning to my son. Dylan grabbed his hand and walked through the door saying, "Daddy, they really should say 'bottom'."