The State of My 51-year-old Body As Witnessed By My 14-year-old Son
Me: "I am so tired of looking this way. Maybe I should try to grow my hair again."
Jackson: "Your hair looks good short."
Me: "Really? Thank you."
I bend down to kiss him goodnight; he bites my cheek and won't let go.
Me: "Goddamnit, Jackson, if you draw blood I will kill you."
He begins sucking on my cheek like a moray eel.
Me: "Goddamnit, Jackson! I cannot go to work tomorrow with a hickey on my face!"
He bites harder, then lets go and looks at me.
Jackson: "Oh my God, there's a crease!"
Me: "Yeah, I'm old, my skin doesn't just bounce back to its normal shape if you do shit like that."
Me: "WHO'S THE MONSTER NOW?"
Arms in a Sleeveless Shirt
Jackson: "Stick out your arms."
I stick out my arms.
Jackson: "Now wiggle them."
Dies laughing at the way my upper arms jiggle.
Me: "Goddamnit, Jackson."
Jackson: "Mom, come into my room, I need to show you something."
Watches me climb awkwardly out of bed in a nightdress, gives my ass a horrified look.
Me: "I saw that look."
Jackson: "What?! I didn't say anything!"
"Your knees look like butts."
Looks at me wearing yoga shorts.
Jackson: "Your legs look . . ."
Me: "It's called cellulite and it's totally normal."
Me: "Trust me, I will never leave this house wearing yoga shorts."
Jackson: (politely) "I like your long yoga shorts* better."
*I'm pretty sure "long yoga shorts" are actually yoga pants
Me (walking into his room): "Jackson, I need you to take out the --"
Jackson (yells at my house slippers): "WHAT ARE THOSE?"