Catalog in the Mail

So the Christmas eggnog sure tasted great.

At Thanksgiving it was the pumpkin ice cream.

In October it was the Halloween candy, primarily the fun-size candy bars.

Here it is January and I am back on Weight Watchers. As if someone is watching, I received a "fitness wear" catalog in the mail today. Aptly timed.

Instead of just standing around craving peanut M&Ms, which would be my usual late-afternoon practice, I decide to thumb through the catalog. Perhaps this is what skinny people do? Instead of eating all the time?

Mostly the whole 60 pages are filled with photos of really firm tushies in a variety of pants, capris, and shorts. If the M&M craving wasn't already averted, the photos of really firm tushies would do it.

Did this catalog miss its intended demographic when it came to my house? I'm a 40 year-old housewife with four kids and I clean my own toilets --- is this a catalog for me? Here is a sampling of my daily activities, on, say, a typical Wednesday, just like today: wake up groggy; shower, shave, and trim my fingernails; start laundry; greet kids; referee breakfast; homeschool; run to Target; make snacks when kids' friends come over; make dinner; go for a walk; blog; go to bed. And then here is a sampling of the daily activities seemingly enjoyed by the firm-tushy women in the catalog: yoga; running; more yoga; rock climbing; walking to the yoga studio with mat in hand; yoga on the beach; yoga in the garden; yoga on a slab of granite; riding scooter to yoga; biking; yachting; spending a great deal of time around Jeeps; hiking; kayaking; surfing; wheeling luggage up and down a pier (to embark on a yacht trip?); tightrope-walking in new French pedicure; playing beach volleyball.

I suppose they've done trials. I suppose they sent out a catalog with their skorts and hoodies and tanks being worn by softer-curved women holding preschoolers on their hips while scrambling eggs at the stove, but it didn't sell. I'm smart --- I know they make it look like the life we want so we'll buy their clothes thinking the yacht and the yoga beach session (sans kids) and the firm tushy will be included. But I'm not buying a thing! I'm just going to use their little publication to get my mind off the M&Ms. It would, after all, take a really bad day with the kids and a total disregard for our budget to buy the seashell hoodie pictured on page 28 for $79.00. For the love of Pete!