Mommy's Dots

The other day, I was sitting on the toilet in a pair of shorts (a closed toilet, please, people) waiting for the little angel to finish going potty.

All of the sudden, I noticed she was poking at my legs. I looked down. Yep. She had discovered what happens when ladies in their thirties SIT DOWN without "tucking."

Little Angel: "What's that, Mommy?" (indicates cellulite)

Me: "Those are my dots."

Little Angel: "Oh."

Me: (gulping to swallow mounting body-image issues) "Aren't they pretty?"

Little Angel: "YEAH! Do I have dots?" (looks down at her own perfect, fat-free legs)

Me: (feigning pride and tossing my thinning hair - God, I make myself sound SO ATTRACTIVE) "No, you don't get to have dots and boobies until you're older." (Pausing to make up more total bullshit) "You know, like older than 15. Remember how the little mermaid got to go above the water when she was 15?"

Little Angel: (still studying legs) "Yeah. Your dots are pretty, Mommy." (touches my legs lovingly)

Me: (standing) "And see? Now they're gone! They're magic dots!"

Little Angel: "Wow."

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