So I’m walking into Target behind a couple of women and I see that one of them has two tattoos, one on each thigh. Being the kind of person who loves to see what people have permanently etched onto their skin, I picked up my pace to see exactly what they were.
Just so you know, I didn’t get a picture because that would have been kind of weird, you know?
The woman was wearing shorts (remember, this is Phoenix, so shorts in November is no biggie) and her thighs were… shall we say… generously proportioned?
On the back of one thigh, smack dab in the middle of it, was a frosted cupcake. On the other thigh, an ice cream sundae.
It was like an illustrated version of the phrase, “Well, this is going straight to my thighs.”
I have to say, that takes guts. Not to mention incredible devotion to a joke.
Then it occurred to me, there could be something else going on.
I don’t know if this will surprise you or not, but I have a tattoo. It’s on my upper back and it’s covering a rather large scar. Maybe sometime I’ll tell you the story of when I got it. The tattoo, that is.
Anyway, a funny thing happened afterward: My back went from a body part I was terribly sensitive about, to something I was now proud of and wanted to show off.
Do you suppose that might be the case with her thighs? After all, it was a very pretty cupcake and ice cream sundae. And maybe she just grew tired of always feeling insecure about her weight. Maybe she decided to finally stop worrying so much about it and get on with enjoying life. Not to mention, show some good humor in the process.
That’s pretty great. Don’t you think?