Back That Thang Up

Bend overIt didn't use to be this way. When I bent over, you heard nothing. The sound was similar to a small twig swaying in the breeze. You see it, if you're looking, but it's not audible. It does no damage, even if there's a derecho. 

That's what my behind used to be like.
Then something happened. 


It's like a tale about an ordinary guy that somehow acquires super powers. One night, he was just Joe Schmoe, hoping for something better in the world. Then, he awakens one morning…and lo and behold…he has this great…power.

That is what happened to me. My story is more like Franz Kafka’s “The Metamorphosis” than Marvel’s “Spider-Man.” If something bit me to give me this so-called power, it was a baboon. Looking at my limbs, I don’t seem to have any teeth marks.

There was no lo and behold moment for me. Instead, it was more of a lo-and-behind moment. This growth in my posterior must be genetic. I’m not quite sure which side of my family tree it’s from, but unlike the inaudible twig my behind used to be, it is now a branch. When it sways in the wind, you best watch yourself.

Step back.

I may look all skinny to you, but that’s just my appearance. If I’m such a stick, what happened to all my pants that used to fit? I don’t have a beer gut, and I haven’t grown taller. As I’ve entered my 30’s, I have gained some weight, which is healthy because I used to weigh (at 6 foot) 148 lbs. You could play the xylophone on my ribs.

Instead, the one part of me that is the heffer is my behind. Family members have told me that it’s bigger. They tell me that it’s so big, I need to watch where I’m swinging it.
Sadly, I have just recently knocked a small child over with it, and I have broken a shelf by hitting it with this bottom. It’s sort of embarrassing.

The shelf, you ask? While moving a dog kennel at my in-laws, my rear-end bumped up against a shelf with metal hooks. I knocked it off the wall, and it broke. Steph went around telling everyone under the sun that I can break wrought iron with this butt.

The hooks on that shelf were not made of wrought iron. It was cheap metal. Cheap metal, I say!

I’ve hit Steph, too.

As I bend over, objects and people are in my line of…what?



If you stand behind me, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.