For The Love of My Thighs

by Tricia Gillespie


Every time someone mentions the words diet or exercise, a thousand Rocketts begin dancing across my mind, each leg kick higher than the last.

My thighs are my troubled half and believe me, they carry at least half of my body weight.  Unfortunately each of my thighs resembles a tree trunk with the consistency of a Twinkie.

About twice a year, I go on a reconnaissance effort to take back my legs – once in the spring when I know beach season looms near and once again in the fall when I try to squeeze back into my jeans.

Liposuction has always been a consideration; however, I’ve never been able to fully convince my insurance company that cellulite of the thighs is correlated to sudden death.

They don’t realize that I am doing squats at deaths door.

It was during one of my ‘slim my body in a hurry’ panics that I discovered my library had an exercise video targeted directly at thighs.

The Rocketts rejoiced.

I began squatting, lifting, kicking, and crunching with near immediate results.  If such a thing is possible, it seemed the Twinkies were turning into Twix.  The only problem was the video could only be checked out of the library for two days at a time.

Renewals not permitted.

One night after I’d just washed an arsenal of age-fighting makeup down the drain and changed into paint stained yoga pants, I realized that I needed to exercise.  I couldn’t risk another day without making my cellulite scream in defeat.

With bedroom eyes and the sweetest tone I could muster, I begged, pleaded, and groveled at my husband’s feet.  He finally conceded to run to the library and pick up that video.  After all, he enjoyed the benefits of a firmer and more agile me.

Furtively glancing around the library, he sheepishly slinked up to the counter and wordlessly placed the video in front of the librarian.  You can never quite tell what a librarian is thinking.  They are assumed smart, and are respected because few other people can master the library ‘whisper’.

With a smirk, she told him he could keep the video for a week this time.  Apparently his thighs looked to be in worse shape than mine, and I scolded myself for not sending him sooner.

A few days later my unsuspecting husband returned to the library with my son.  As he walked up to the counter, the librarian looked up past her minty green glasses and asked, “How are your thighs doing?”

And that is why I love my husband.  He puts kindness into action as he sacrifices his reputation for my thighs.