I have an umbilical hernia from my LGA (large for gestational age) second pregnancy. Recently, it has gotten bigger. Perhaps from me sticking my finger in there all the time. Maybe. I googled it yesterday because I am considering getting a repair done. Google tells me that adult umbilical hernias usually occurs in middle-aged obese multiparous women. Crap, Google. Why so mean?
Christmas is Just Around the Corner. And I am Freaking Out. So I make myself go shopping for the multiple of teenaged relatives who live in the city. I see that all the Young People are going into Abercrombie and Fitch. So I go in. And my ovaries immediately start shrinking and becoming decrepid. It's like I walked into the body of a 16 year old. The loud emo music, the nausea-inducing heavy cologne, the pubic-bearing larger than life photos on the walls, the metrosexual teen boys who ask me with a soft smile every 5 minutes, "is everything alright?" I alternate between rolling my eyes, gagging on the heavy musk in the air, gasping at the price of worn and torn sweatpants, and trying to keep my dowager hump from growing prematurely. I made it out with only a sweater, I couldn't take it anymore. The Youthfulness of the place totally kicked the Geriatric me out. When the hell did I become OLD? Crap, Life. Why so mean?