Baby Got.....um....uh........

An old friend of mine told me today that today is her son’s 17th birthday. Seventeenth. During the summer of 1992, I was 25 and unemployed. The first George Bush was president, and my girlfriend’s husband was also out of work. So, for a couple of days a week I would go over to their apartment and babysit her two kids so her husband could look for a job. It was a long summer, but the arrangement worked out well. We could both look for jobs and I could pad my unemployment check a bit while I looked.

I am now closer to 50 than 25, and I have no idea where that time went. I certainly don’t feel any different than I did then. I can still party like a rock star (well, a rock star who has to get up at 4:30 am), I still go to concerts, I’m still fashionable, and I still get carded on a pretty regular basis. But there is one thing that is definitely different between the 25 year old me and the me of today.

Backfat.

There. I said it. My name is Kirstin and I have backfat. They didn’t tell us about backfat when we were kids. They didn’t pull us aside and say “Yes dear, you will menstruate for roughly 35 years, and somewhere around the 30th year, you will get the backfat”. I would have remembered that. I would have been looking closely for the hideous “bra bulge” to come. I wouldn’t have bought clingy knits if I knew this. At first, I thought it was my bra. I figured I needed a new one. Nope. Then I thought perhaps it was just the top I was wearing. Nope. I had to come to the conclusion that it is just me being betrayed by my own backside.

Well, now I have to figure out some exercises to eliminate this backfat, but I am afraid that ultimately, the backfat will win. As I look around the grocery store or shopping mall at women older than me, most have some amount of backfat.

Ooooh, duuuude, this sucks.

I guess for now it’s just me any my Kymaro New Body Shaper. Ugh.