for better or worse

28 Mar

I stayed up late the other night watching old Saturday Night Live Best Of’s on Netflix.  The next morning, I lay in bed until 9:45.  When I got up, Taylor was sitting on the couch browsing Reddit, so naturally, I draped myself across his lap in an effort to annoy him.

I lay there for for fifteen minutes or so, until I inevitably got bored.  Taylor’s far too used to my methods to get annoyed that quickly.  I started to fuss with the blanket, and then I  suddenly noticed something.

“What are you doing?” Taylor asked.

“Looking at my butt,” I said.  I pinched my booty, analyzing it.

“Oh.”  Taylor opened a new tab on his computer and kept reading.  “Why?” he asked.

“It’s fat.  It’s fatty.  Look.”

Taylor glanced at me.  He raised his eyebrows.  It was a familiar Taylor-look,  which is kind of an even mix between  “please quit talking” and “you’re cute when you’re naive”.

Girl,” he said with a wink.  “You ain’t got no junk in your trunk.”

“I have lots of junk in my trunk!” I squealed.  “Look at all this junk.  My trunk is full of junk.”

Nope,” said Taylor.  He ignored me as I continued to poke and prod.  I could gather up a handful of flab between my fingers.  When I flicked it, it wiggled, kind of like jello.  Pudding-butt.  That’s what I had.  A pudding-butt.  It couldn’t be normal.  I sighed.

“Actually,” Taylor said, without looking at me, “you have a pretty flat butt.”

I sat up, glaring at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Your butt is flat.”

“It is NOT.”

Taylor blinked.

“What…is that bad?”

“Yes!  Having a flat butt is bad!  My butt isn’t flat!”

“Yyyyyes it is.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I sniffed, sticking my nose in the air.  Taylor didn’t look sorry.  He looked more confused than anything else.  “I don’t have a flat butt.”

I flipped the blanket back over myself, sulking.  This wasn’t going like I thought it would.  Taylor had somehow turned things around on me.  I was supposed to be annoying him.  He was sneaky like that, all  ignoring me when I fish for compliments, and saying nice things when I don’t expect it.  Stupid Taylor.   I buried my head in his shoulder and sighed.

“Mrph brfft iffnt fllt.” I mumbled.  Taylor kissed my hair.

“Yes, it is,” he said.  “I don’t see why that’s bad.  Your butt is kind of flat.”

“Mrph brfft iffnt fllt,” I said into Taylor’s shoulder.

“It is.”  Taylor was making an effort to be as gentle as possible.  I didn’t buy it.

“Iff nnt.”

“Sorry.  It is.”

I sat up.

“It is not.  I have a fat butt, not a flat butt, and that’s that, ok?”

“Okay.  Sheesh.”

Taylor turned back to the computer and continued reading headlines.  I stewed on the couch, willing myself to calm down.  Every once in awhile, the corners of Taylor’s mouth twitched, like he was about to crack a joke and every time thought better of it.  Finally, he closed his laptop, and picked it up to take it into the office.

“Love you,” I said, as bitterly as I could muster as he kissed me on the temple.  He shambled down the hall.

“Love you too,” he said, “Flat-Butt.”  He shut the door with a bark of laughter.

Boys just don’t understand how drastically serious one’s butt-status really is.


Posted by on March 28, 2010 in Uncategorized


4 responses to “for better or worse

  1. Tess

    March 29, 2010 at 8:51 pm

    I would offer an opinion but I do not know that I have analyzed your butt enough to agree or disagree. I am sure that your butt is adorable regardless of the amount of junk therein.

  2. causeofgreaterworth

    April 2, 2010 at 1:38 pm

    Wow, Taylor is courageous.

  3. glamourlegen

    May 31, 2010 at 12:28 pm

    As a fellow nerd-rager, migrainer and flat-butter and bra-abuser I think your blog is wonderful and hilarious and I love it.

    (and p.s. As a doctor, I strongly urge you to fork out on those triptans. That´s the only thing that works.)

  4. glamourlegen

    May 31, 2010 at 12:33 pm

    Oh, and I´m a pen hoarder. I think we´re twins.


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