My Mother, The Bodybuilder

November 9, 2010

I said pick up your room.

It wasn’t like this before dad left. Before mom met Ron and starting going to the gym all the time. She used to look like a normal mom. You know, with mom jeans and mock-turtlenecks under athletic sweatshirts, and that slightly bulging area just below the belt line. And white tennis shoes.

Now she wears her gym gear all the time. Even at work. Which, it’s not really regulation bank attire. And she’s orange.

All the kids at school ask me if she’s had a sex change. One of the older kids, he’s supposed to be a senior but he got held back-he’s one of those kids that goes to the small classroom where they wear headphones and learn to work cash registers, even though there doesn’t seem to be anything particularly wrong with them, no more wrong than most the kids I go to school with-he keeps cornering me after lunch and telling me that he heard that “women who do ‘roids grow penises.”

He says that unless I get a picture of my mom’s penis to show him, he’s going to beat me up.

Also, Ron, my mom’s bodybuilder boyfriend, is a total asshole.

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