The shape of things to come...
Yesterday afternoon I attended a first birthday celebration for niece. The two youngest guests (other than the birthday girl) were two thirteen year old girls. Throughout the party they chatted with one another and played with my niece, understandably shy in a room full of much older people.
We offered the two girls cake. They refused. Ice cream? None of that either. Peanut butter truffles? Chips and salsa? Chili? No. No, thank you. "None for me!" Instead they shared a single, small plate of carrot sticks, celery, broccoli and a tiny quarter sized pool of dip.
They kept their eyes neatly averted from those of us eating sweets, but I wondered whether they longed for something more than the next 60 years of weight watching, endless workouts, stops in front of every mirror to check for extra inches, wretching in cold public toilets after meals, starving for a better life/a better body/ a perfect world?
We offered the two girls cake. They refused. Ice cream? None of that either. Peanut butter truffles? Chips and salsa? Chili? No. No, thank you. "None for me!" Instead they shared a single, small plate of carrot sticks, celery, broccoli and a tiny quarter sized pool of dip.
They kept their eyes neatly averted from those of us eating sweets, but I wondered whether they longed for something more than the next 60 years of weight watching, endless workouts, stops in front of every mirror to check for extra inches, wretching in cold public toilets after meals, starving for a better life/a better body/ a perfect world?