Butt, Of Course

The second year that Bobby and I were dating, he bought me a Valentine’s Card that said on the front “what do I love about you the most?” and on the inside “butt, of course!” He thought this was hilarious because, you know, he’s a boy and all.

I’ve been thinking about that card at lot the last week because suddenly thoughts and conversations about butts are something I just can’t get away from.

Last week Bobby was out of town, and I choose to use that time to watch a sad movie because when he’s home Bobby is the sad movie police and keeps me from making such horrible decisions. Like an addict, as soon as he leaves the house for a few days, I start trolling the cable stations for showings of “Terms of Endearment” or “Steel Magnolias”. So last week I decided I’d watch “Nights in Rodanthe”, a movie based on a Nicholas Sparks book so you know it’s just going to be brutal going in. And it was. I sat in the dark on my bed sobbing when it was over.

And then I remembered about Richard Gere and the gerbils. You know, how he puts them up his butt? And that made me stop crying because, come on, what kind of dumb ass sobs over a guy who willingly puts rodents in his butt?

I mentioned this at a bbq over the weekend at my friend Holly’s house and everyone, including her dad, nodded in agreement about Gere and the gerbils, but there was one girl there, an FBI agent no less, who was clueless about it. She asked us questions like “when did this happen?” and “was it on the news?” and “are you sure it’s true?” and while none of us could come up with any concrete proof, there was no denying it was absolutely true. Gere and the gerbils is something you just believe in. We take it on faith that it happened and we’re at once disgusted and fascinated by it. On his tombstone I’m sure it will say “Actor, Buddist, Guy who loved gerbils in his butt” cause that is just who Gere is. No question. And those gerbils in his butt saved me from a Sparks induced death spiral so thanks little Zhu Zhu pets.

Later in the week, I was chatting with one of my close friends about how her boss is kind of a dick. I asked for an example and she told me that he often blows up and gets super mad but then apologizes in a less than favorable way. Like when he showed his remorse to her by presenting her with a DVD set of the television show “Mad Men” so she could watch and see what working for an actual “bad boss” is like and then appreciate him more. Really? So, you’re some kind of temper challenged crazy person and she’s supposed to be psyched that you’re not trying to grab her butt like Jon Hamm? Hamm is pretty hot and I’m pretty sure my friend’s boss is not. Plus he’s playing a boss from the 1960’s not 2010 so the argument/apology here is pretty weak. It’d take the butt grabbing over the insane manic personality any day.

On Friday we went to the pool for Mac’s swimming lesson. After the lesson all the kids were playing in the pool when a little girl who is new to the pool crowd came over to me and said “Um, Mac’s mom, your son is trying to grab my tush.” I thought this sounded odd, but I assured the little girl that I’d talk to him so I called Mac over and said “Buddy, were you trying to grab that little girl’s butt, because she doesn’t like it” to which he responded “Mom, I wasn’t trying to grab her butt – I was just playing a simple game of grab ass”

Um, excuse me? Did my 4 year old just tell me he was playing a simple game of grab ass? I had no idea how to respond to that so I just said “well, don’t touch anyone’s butt – EVER” and then thought about how great it was that I was going to end up being the mother of the next generation's Sir Mix A Lot.

So, here it is another week and I’m hoping to get through it without any talk about rear ends. Butt, of course, I think we all know that won’t happen.