My mother (a.k.a Nancy Reagan, a nickname I gave her for her size, stamina, and her one time love of St. John knit suits) has a knack for tossing some major insults my way and delivering them as innocently as Snow White.
The other day she asked me once again when D.W and I are going to have kids now that I'm 40. We of course have no idea and I am completely non-stressed about it. At this point, a virtual miracle will have to happen for me to get pregnant. As I wisely decided to not respond, she sighed and said, "Well, if something happens to D.W. you will be all alone for the rest of your life." Thanks Nancy - because that thought has never crossed my mind.
Last night I met her at Neiman Marcus, a favorite place of hers, to check out their sale. Nancy and I used to always shop together, as a teen we regularly hit the Loehmanns "Back Room" for bargain priced irregular-sized designer duds from the previous year's collections. Of course back then I could get away with slightly 'off' fashions, as I was always tall and skinny. However, in college I discovered a love of beer and sugary drinks loaded with god knows what and scooped out of a metal tub at frat houses. For food it was either Wendys or Taco Bell. The freshman 15 was in full force. Nancy would take me shopping and proceed to tell me my thighs were bulbous along with, "You know can't always keep the wolf from the door," when referring to my diet and lack of exercise. I vowed to never go shopping with Nancy again.
I met her at Neiman's because I figured although I'm 8 pounds more than my usual weight, after 20 years I would let Nancy into a dressing room with me. I'm 40 and I just don't give a shit as much as I used to. She started with "your bust has really gotten big," (two of those 8 pounds are currently sitting in my boobs.) It's not the worst comment that's for sure, however it was followed with "you have always had a little pot belly." At that point my pants were staying on and I was only trying on tops in front of her. She then held up a size 12 dress and said "this would be cute" to which I told her I'm not a 12 as she gave me the big girl once over and I reminded her I was a size 8 and have been forever. To make myself feel better I said "at least when I gain weight my face stays thin," to which she replied "You know, you do have a little bit of double chin".
I bought three tops, bid Nancy goodbye and told her " thanks for saying I had more chins than a Chinese phone book." Of course by that time, she couldn't even recall her insults with her now Snow White demeanor. In a way Nancy has been good for my diet - knowing I'll see her every few weeks always keeps the extra 55 lbs at bay. My sister is tiny. Of course, she has the combination of Nancy's hounding and living in LA working in television so she will pretty much never think she's thin enough. It's a double whammy for lil sis. I can't help but think what would Nancy do if say Wynonna Judd was her daughter.