What It Isn’t (and What It Is)

Just in case you’re wondering, this is NOT a blog about how to get rid of a saggy bottom. A quick Google search brings up a lot of information on how to do just that, but you’re not going to find it here. I have reached a workable understanding with myself: I can obsess over being “perfect” (a pretty stupid idea–if I wasn’t perfect at 21, what chance do I have 40+ years later?) or I can make peace with my SASS & mom and Hattievarious body parts and enjoy the occasional (or daily) bowl of rocky road ice cream. I can also enjoy life, which is usually a lot more enjoyable if you laugh with, at, or through it.

Aside from the obvious (and perhaps overly personal) anatomical reference in the blog’s title, the “sass” is also apropos. My mama never tired of explaining to a much younger me that I had way too much of it. Come to think of it, she never tired of repeating this opinion to a much older me. Once, in  a weak moment, she confided that her own mother–whom I remember as being pretty sassy herself–had told her the same thing. She said the last spanking she ever got was because of her sassiness. She was sixteen, apparently not too old for her diminutive mother to administer a couple of swats with a hominy paddle. That’s an old-time, large, long-handled wooden device that  people used to stir corn as it cooked into hominy in a big cauldron over an outdoor fire, generally in the backyard. The paddle was bigger than the person wielding it, and the resulting swats didn’t have much impact. My mother said that after it was over, she ran into the front yard and collapsed in giggles. The point of the story is that my sassiness must be genetic, and you know you can’t fight genetics. To make matters worse, the initials I was born with, SAS, took on an additional “s” when I married, and SASS became my official, legal initials. And you know you can’t fight the legal system.

So here’s what Saggy Bottom Sass is about–laughing and sassing our way  through the exasperating non-perfections of our lives. Perhaps by laughing at my exasperations, your own will become, well, less exasperating!