Kids Say The Darndest Things: "Your Butt Looks Sexy" Creepy? Or A Helpful Reminder I've Still Got It?

I hit the big "four O" last year and -- let's face it -- you start to question a few things when you get to that no-longer-in-my-thirties place in life.
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I hit the big "four O" last year and -- let's face it -- you start to question a few things when you get to that no-longer-in-my-thirties place in life. Examples of questions that run through your mind include "Will I ever have kids?" and "I love my career, but is it really that awesome and important?" And go ahead and toss in, "Whoa what happened to my supermodel legs and really remarkable rear-end?!

It's the cost of crossing the no longer thirty-nine line, right ladies? Hey, for the most part, I have fully embraced my forties, I am so much wiser, I am an independent woman living on my own terms. I have a tribe of wonderful support, a great family, and I am in love, so I can let go of my former, in my own mind, supermodel-ness. I am not one of those women who whines and complains about her body, but I will say I have slid into this slight acceptance that things just change a teensy bit at the frontlines of forty.

Last week, I was pulling up my sundress over my bikini pre-beach outing, when my four year old nephew, Jack, said very casually and to the point, "I like your butt. It's sexy."

What!? Seriously? I didn't know if I should be horrified that he even knew what the word sexy was or that he said it out loud or that he said it with such honesty and conviction.

Then I told myself to just settle down, maybe Jack was onto something here, perhaps that intense five minutes on the treadmill at the gym last week was paying off and things were looking up, or at least my butt was. Awesome. For about fifty-two seconds I looked in the mirror and agreed with smart, wise very observant Jack, my butt is sexy. Good job Jack. And not even twelve seconds later, I snapped out of my personal Sports Illustrated moment and looked at Jack in my most serious Auntie face and asked him the myriad of adult questions like where he learned that word, does he understand what it means, did he hear that at school and that is not really a word for children to use and why. He finally fled the room realizing the cross examination was no longer fun.

I snuck in one last peek into the mirror and realized maybe Jack needs glasses, and I should remind his mom to look into that.

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