Reckless Abandon
One We were reckless in our younger days. Crazy kids in love, in heat. How the scent of our passion filled the summer nights. Now we argue over the last beer as we watch the 3 am infomercials.
Oh, your smooth legs wrapped around me tight, grinding eternally through the darkness of the night. Now your legs of stubble prick me as you mount me for a Tuesday night quickie.
The romantic glances exchanged over candlelit dinner, the games under the table. Now you rise ever more awkwardly from the couch, as your saddle bags brush lazily against my knee on your way to the kitchen to nuke your thirrd plate of corn dogs.
Your wild hair and bare feet dancing in the wind. Alas, now I watch you, with your hair fried after a decade of bad perms, slip your wide feet into a pair of flip flops, on your way out to buy bigger underwear for the fourth time this year.
You arrive home and order pizza, thinking I don't know about your trip to Burger King, and Dairy Queen, or the candy bars you ate in the department store check-out stand. But the evidence is there in your shopping bag; it's in your eyes; it hangs from your belly; it sags from your thighs.
When we met I couldn't imagine any fat on that 130-pound frame. I never thought I'd see you be able to eat a triple cheeseburger, large fry, two apple pies with a large coke, then finish off the contents from all seven of our children's trays.
There was that wild night you got that tattoo; now we can't find it. You tried on last year's bathing suit and couldn't get those huge bottoms past your hips.
Tonight, you know I want you. I'll come into our bedroom with a box of donuts and begin to touch your tremendous body. And minus the extra five or so hundred pounds, it'll be just like old times.
Two We've been back on our own now for a couple of months, finally saw the youngest off to college. I can sense excitement welling up within you, still a young, early 40's woman, exploding into your sexual prime. Oh, Momma, you've worked so hard keeping your weight down to about 600 pounds, but I've never seen you take down a bucket of chicken like that before. Yes, you know this is your time.
That's your fifth box of ice cream sandwiches tonight. Donuts? Of course I'll make a run down to Krispy Kreme and double your usual order.
+ Spread 'em wider, Momma! UGHHH...hold that enormous belly back! Oh, I almost had it!
+ It sure was nice seeing the kids tonight. Boy, Jenna's looking more and more like her mom every day. You read my mind. Let me help you into bed and I'll go get us some Taco Bell.
+ Yeah, I just got off the phone with Brian - what a chip off the old block! I guess his wife Brenda weighs almost 500 pounds now. I heard her pleading in the background for more bon bons. Jenna beeped in, too, said she needs you to direct her to a good plus size clothing store.
+ Oh, Darling, don't try and move, just lay still, here, have another bag of cheeseburgers. Chips, ice cream, pop, pizza donuts, cookies, cakes, pies, let me rub that swollen belly and make it better. You know, when your gut swings below your knees, you wanna stay off those fat fragile little feet. I've got everything you need right here. That's right, my 750-pound pork chop just needs to lay back and let her food digest. You know, our daughter Shannon called, said she needs to know how to keep her house running with all the added weight she's put on.