Yup, a woman called me a fat b***h. I did not actually hear her say that to me, but, unfortunately my VERY protective 9 year old heard it and he yelled at her to "shut your pie-hole". Yikes. I hustled him out of there and reminded him that, if there is arguing to be done with grown-ups, it will be me who does the arguing because I am pretty good at it, actually, and because it is not a 9 year old's place to argue with adults, no matter how foolish or rude they are, especially if I am standing right there. I told him it would be like me running onto the football field and throwing a down-block because I am afraid the other guy might get by him. I would look ridiculous, he would be embarrassed, and it's just not a good idea. So, why might someone call Miss Cannie a big, fat b....? It started when I walked into a business and a customer was spouting a loud, obnoxious political rant which pushed all my buttons. I may have suggested to her that her attitude could use some improvement, and I may have pointed out that what she loudly assured me several times was "the truth" was actually just her own opinion, and I may have laughed when she told me she could do a good job running the country, and it most definitely disintegrated from there. But, in my defense, I did not call her names, I was just pointing out to her that everyone does NOT agree with her so she might want to think twice before spouting off, loudly and negatively, in public. Anyway, I left and as I was leaving, she hurled her insult. When my 9 year old told me why he had yelled at her "But, Momma, she called you a fat B....." I told him, "honey, I know who I am and me being fat does not make me any less of a human being." He said, at this point, "you're not fat" but I told him that, in reality, I am fat and I am not in denial. I told him that when people run out of "intellectual bullets", this is what they do - they hurl insults about appearance. It's from the 5th grade handbook. This woman is also, apparently, of the school of thought that goes something like this: "I am not overweight therefore I must be attractive and I am definitely superior." Some overweight folks even believe this to be true of skinny people. I am not one of them. She was not attractive, she did not seem healthy, she certainly did not strike me as a superior human being -she just seemed skinny and angry with a big streak of lunatic. I will confess that, when my son told me what she had called me, I paused briefly and thought to myself "hmmm, is this one of those defining moments that will inspire me and I will wind up dropping 50 pounds and end up as a before & after story in a magazine, about 'how I lost the weight?' Nope. She didn't inspire me, she didn't make me feel horrible about myself, but the whole incident made me think seriously about my mouthiness. I will always be an opinionated, mouthy woman but I am going to have to temper it when Payton is with me. I don't mean to belabor this point but here are the facts. At 9 he is already huge - nearly 5'3", size 11 feet, and built like a brick wall. If he continues to grow like this, he will be quite huge. I have no intention of using him like a body guard but, the fact is, he has been protective of me since he has been a toddler. It does not matter how many times I assure him that I can take care of myself, or show him that I can take care of myself, he cannot STAND it when he thinks someone has mistreated me. My other sons, like most kids, also had this streak but it is more pronounced in Payton so I have to be the one to demonstrate more restraint. So, what could I have done differently? Turned around the moment I walked in and realized this woman was spewing nonsense that would irritate the
out of me? I could have turned around, walked out, and waited to go in and conduct my business after she left. I probably would have thrown her a withering glance (not to brag, but I am really good at those) but I would not have put myself and Payton in a position of him hearing someone insult me in such a vulgar, sophomoric fashion and he would not feel compelled to defend my honor.
On a side note, I really AM sick of being fat but fat I am. I was at the doctor's office, for my messed up ankle/foot/leg and I heard a name from my past. It was a former "luvah"
. I hadn't seen him since we were both in our 20's, when he was gorgeous and I was pretty cute myself (pretty easy when you are in your 20's) and now, here I sat, fat. Did I race out of the room before he could turn around and see me? Nope. No racing for me with torn ligaments, tendons, and whatever else is going on in there, anyway. Plus, it isn't like I am now mid-50's and he stayed frozen at 29 and gorgeous. He is also in his 50's and he has his own weight gain going on, which does not detract from his handsomeness, by the way. I said hello, he was happy to see me, we had a friendly chat, and, when the nurse called my name, I hobbled on by, hoping he would not look at my @$$ and remember when....but knowing he would. Oh, well. When we were talking, the subject of our kids came up and I mentioned my oldest, whom he knew as a kid, was now 38. He remarked on how much that dated us, how old we are now. I said "at least we are still here". We both know many people who did not live to see their 50's and would probably like to be here, no matter how they looked. That is exactly how I feel. Yes, it stinks to be fat but there are a whole lot of conditions that are worse than being fat, despite our society assuring us that NOTHING is worse than being fat.
So, I am fat AND hobbled (both are, hopefully, temporary conditions). The doctor wants me in a boot for two weeks, then to acupuncture, and then physical therapy. While I was being fitted for my boot, an elderly couple came in. They were holding hands and when they sat down, they sort of snuggled in together, talking companionably, with the husband doting on the wife, who was struggling physically. It was adorable. They were adorable. Of course, me being the mouthy, opinionated woman that I am, I told them how adorable they were. We had a nice chat. They asked about my injury, and expressed their concern, and gave me some suggestions. They were lovely. They were just what I needed to see - pure love and sweetness. My husband and I are in a period of discontent and strife. I am willing to bet this lovely old couple experienced their times of stress and strife, too. But here they are, 59 years into their marriage, and they were the picture of love and devotion. They hung in there together. They did not give up. I needed them to remind me of the power of hanging in there, of not giving up.