No Kicking Please!

Just came back from seeing the movie “Cars” with my family. Surprisingly, my kids were incredibly well behaved but not so for the posse of restless ruffians that were surrounding us today. Behind us was Twinkle Toes Timmy who obviously thought he saw a “Kick This” sign posted on the seat in front of him and decided to use my daughter’s chair as part of a two hour kick boxing routine. To my left was Katie the climber, who midway through the film decided to stand up on her seat because she ran out of popcorn. What this heck is it with taking out of control kids to movies these days? There are rules you know. Forget about the no smoking, no cell phone rule. For kids movies, they should have a no kicking the seat in front of you, no screaming because your brother just snagged the last twizzler and no standing on your seat when you get bored with the movie your parents paid good money to take you to see. And one more thing…parents, if your kids act up, it’s your job to take them out. It’s not fair to the rest of us who have already been through our own version of kiddie boot camp and can finally watch a movie in peace with our own kids.

Back to the 80’s

There’s something about this year that has me thinking back to High School. Probably because it’s my 20th year reunion and I’m starting to contemplate whether I’m supposed be doing what I thought I was going to do back in 1986. Back then, I was going to be on Broadway in a major musical, win a Tony and the rest would be history. Fast forward 20 years and the only Broadway I’ve seen lately is the one I crossed today while walking to get to my car in midtown. Funny about high school aspirations…it seems like the people with no fear always pursue their dreams and the ones like me, the conservative types wait it out while secretly singing songs in their car, the shower and anywhere else no one is actually going to hear you. I guess I’ll never know what would have happened if I pursued that Broadway dream. My life still turned out pretty great anyway and I can always sing to my kids (when they tell me not to stop singing) and at our local synagogue. It may not be Broadway, but for me, it’s close enough!

The Diet

So I did what I normally do every June and I joined another weight loss center. This time, it’s L.A. Weight Loss. I’ve already mastered Weight Watchers, Atkins and the Zone, so now it’s their turn. Here’s the problem. These people monitor you like hawks. Weigh in on Tuesday, come back again Thursday…oops you’re up two pounds…not so good. Come back again Monday. Drink 58 gallons of water. Run to the bathroom every other minute. Get on the scale for kicks, still no weight loss. I’m starving. Wondering when we’re headed out for dinner and hoping I’ll be able to eat more than a chicken leg and half a baked potato. Meanwhile, my kids wanted to go to the fun Japanese hibachi place but the butter they use for cooking would probably screw up my fat allotment for the week. Dieting is not fun. Small butts are nice, but chocolate is better.

The Minnie Van

So this isn’t a confession as much as it is an observation of something that was so hysterical that it should have been on episode of “Curb Your Enthusiasm.” I was attending a funeral – okay – that’s not the funny part – of my husband’s grandmother (she wasn’t technically his grandma but that’s a whole other story). Anyway, his half brother, who made the funeral arrangements is a pretty frugal guy. He keeps his eye on the bottom line and makes sure that he doesn’t spend a penny over any asking price. And so, Minnie’s funeral was a no frills affair. As we prepared to drive to the cemetary plot, I was a bit confused when I didn’t see a hearse in front of us. Just the undertaker driving a minivan. Suddenly, the unthinkable happened. The grave diggers came over to the van, opened the trunk and Voila! Minnie’s casket was inside. Get it? Minnie’s final ride was in a minivan!!! His brother didn’t want to spring for a hearse so Minnie was transported to the cemetary in a Dodge Caravan. When I pinched my husband to share that observation, he almost keeled over laughing. Sure it may sound like I was poking fun at a sad time, but if you knew Minnie, who lived to the ripe old age of 95, she had the most sarcastic sense of humor and probably would have made that joke up before I caught the punchline! Rest in peace Minnie. Your final ride and your humor will never be forgotten!


What is it about the summer and the state of my butt? Is it that I don’t pay attention to the fact that it’s growing all winter and then suddenly, it’s June 1st and I stroll past a store window and bam! There it is…big, round and in need of a gym visit. Every year it’s the same thing. My butt is huge, I should go on a diet. And so, I join Weight Watchers for about two weeks, lose about three pounds, gain it back and start wearing bigger sizes to hide my protruding posterior. Yesterday, as I walked to my office from the train station I actually fantasized about which bodies in front of me I’d like to swap with. Hmmm, she has nice legs, that one is really toned…at least I’m thinner than that lady. Will this body jealousy ever end? I’ve always hated my legs and think about lipo but would never do it. I also remember losing a ton of weight after my daughter was born and although I was sick all the time, I looked damn good in my cute little size four outfits. Now I’m hearing that Splenda, my favorite new sweetner of all time, causes bloating, gas, and all other wonderful things that enhance the look of my bubble butt. I hope I’m not alone in my quest for a smaller tush – I’m not vain – I just want to enjoy wearing some cute outfits this summer without my thighs rubbing together and without having to see the knee fat on my legs that hasn’t gone away since I was 12 years old. Okay – I obviously have some body issues…but who doesn’t. How does your butt look these days? Care to share? Then respond when you can!