Jiggly

My perhaps slightly too honest, perhaps slightly too verbal ten year old son hurt my feelings today. I was relaxing beside the pool, thoroughly enjoying Pat Conroy, the glorious sunshine and exhilarating beach breezes when Drew said the unthinkable, "Mommy, you're jiggly." I won't get so much into detail as to share the exact body part on which he was commenting. Let's just say it was not one of the parts one might hope would be a little umm.... "jiggly." Here I was thinking I still looked fairly good in my swimsuit, all things considered of course. In another one of those "moments in time," Drew burst that bubble (more like that myth) in a nano second and with a mere three word sentence...."Mommy, you're jiggly." In the immediate and somehow innate moment when a male (no matter if he is ten or fifty)realizes he may have said something he should not have said to a female, Drew started backpedaling. "You feel good, Mommy..... I love you, Mommy.... Is that a new bathing suit, Mommy....Too late, Drew. Mommy has already crashed from exuberant unawareness to excrutiating reality, just like that (picture the snapping of my finger).

I tried to salvage my dignity and not notice that Drew's comment was probably overheard by all the teen-age hard bodied spring breakers lounging around the pool. I contemplated the possibility that "jiggly" might not be all bad. I definitely got "jigglier" after the birth of my two children born to a forty something mom. I wouldn't give anything for the "jiggles" they gave me and still give me. And yes, I am sure that I added yet a few more "jiggles" when I hit fifty, but again, I am happy....loving a career change, my children's childhoods, new friendships and many of the other joys my fifties have brought me. I actually feel pretty good about myself, or should I say felt pretty good about myself.

I have said frequently that I wouldn't in a million years want to be back in my twenties....unless I could possibly go back those three decades knowing what I now know. Those were not fun days, even though the "jiggles" were many fewer and much farther between. My "jiggles" of today come with years of experiences and battle scars, with wisdom earned the hard way, a diploma from the school of hard knocks.

Drew wasn't too honest....he was just honest. I guess there's nothing wrong with that. A few "jiggles" are nothing to be ashamed of, right? Suddenly, I desperately needed a coke, rather a diet coke, or better yet a break from the sun. Surely I have had enough sun for the day, maybe even for the week. As I stand to go in for that cool drink, and maybe for forever, I hold my head high. These "jiggles" aren't really so bad. I think I wear them fairly well. But where in the heck did I put that cover-up?