All Because of the Little Red Dress

  “Is anyone out there? Miss?" I called quietly, not anxious for a response. But I didn't really have a choice. II was stuck. It seemed i mpossible that anyone as bright as I was supposed to be could find themselves in such a predicament, but here I was – stuck. 

Bright, my foot. I thought.

Except my foot wasn’t the problem.

Okay ... Bright my butt. And my thunder thighs, my waistline, my midriff, and yes, my boobs. How I thought I could fit this mass of humanity into this cute little red dress was beyond me. Size 10 –  that was about how many years ago I could’ve worn this thing!

The fact I'd squeezed myself into the dress was a statement of sheer determination; that I'd zipped it up, a testament to modern zipper-makers everywhere. The fact the dress hadn’t torn had to be an act-of-God ... and getting out would quite possibly qualify as a miracle.

I looked at my reflection. This might rival the parting of the Red Sea.

I have to hand it to the salesgirl — half my age and just the tiniest fraction of my weight. She never even snickered as she freed me from my red satin cocoon. I think she may have been injured, however, when the zipper finally gave, caught in a bizarre human avalanche that had to be ugly.

"When did this happen?" I waved at my body as I visited with my three best friends a couple days later. "You've known me fifteen years! Why didn't you tell me I was … chunking up?"

They blinked at me.

 "This! And this!" I waved vaguely at my body. "When did this—all this—happen?"

"It's middle-age spread." Stephanie calmly sipped her tea. "Everyone thickens as they age."

"It's your mother-body," Kelley added. "You're not eighteen anymore, you know."

"It isn’t my mother-body!" My loud protests brought neighbors outside. "It’s my mother's body! This..." I pointed to my belly again, "isn't me!"

Sherry smiled. "Who is it, then?"

"Sure looks like you." Kelley giggled.

I frowned at them.

"Actually…" Stephanie furrowed her brows as she stared at my middle, "it looks kind of like us."

Kelley looked at me, then Stephanie and Sherry, and finally surveyed her own body. "I ended up with my mother's body, too!" She patted her stomach.

"How did this happen?" Sherry sounded genuinely concerned, now that it wasn't just my problem.

Kelley set her drink down on the small yard table. "The question is, what are we going to do about this? We need a plan!"

"Do about it?" I asked dumbly.

"Do about it!" Kelley was all business. "You're supposedly the brains among us – don't act like a dolt!"

"Dolt?" When did she start saying 'dolt'? I arched my eyebrows. I didn’t like the look in her eyes.

"I have exercise DVDs! Pilates, Tae-Bo, Zoomba, you name it. We’ll exercise at my place a couple nights a week!" Stephanie pulled a small notebook out of her bag and began taking notes.

"Exercise?" I asked.

"We’ll walk on the other nights." Sherry said.

"Walk?"

" We can start riding our bikes to each other's houses instead of driving," Kelley suggested.

"I ... uh … don't have my bike anymore." I looked around. What was happening?

"I have this great diet Mother sent me."

Stephanie wrote that on her list.

I frowned. "If you have your mother's body and don't like it, why would you try your mother’s diet?"

They ignored me. Kelley and Stephanie sat there, in my yard, sipping my iced tea, making plans like generals going to war.

Who'd have guessed?

All I wanted to do was try on a dress.  

I do make myself out to be a little more dense and less interested than I really was. And now, a couple of decades later, we're all still working on our 'mother-bodies', which have successfully turned into 'grandmother-bodies'. :)

Thanks for reading!