Old and FatZuzana Smetanova
Most of our bodies require a general repair after a long winter and my body is no exception.
It was the day before yesterday, sunny evening, about 6 PM. Perfect conditions for me to start jogging. I was full of energy and enthusiasm. I even didn’t need my mp3 player. Whitney Huston was singing in my head “I'm Every Woman” all day. It was the first song I've heard in the morning.
I rushed out. It was a good idea but wrong time. Every person living in Prague was just walking their dogs in the same forest. My lovely forest. Doggies, of course, feel much better without any leashes. So I thought to myself: “Don’t worry girl, just run!”
I was jogging without any problem for first three minutes. I like dogs. Then I saw her. She couldn’t weight more than 45 kilos and had dreadlocks. She was beautiful…and had 5 huge dogs. The last thing I could think about was jogging. She looked very happy and thought that she caused respect.
I thought to myself: “I will not make you happy by showing you my fear.” I sat on the bench and pretended to sunbath. Yes, and I hoped I will survive. I was brave. The dogs, which resembled calves, looked more intelligent than the girl.
OK, I started to jog again. I saw perfect path. It was so hideous that it clearly could not be used by anyone, at least I thought so. In the middle of my way I saw a strange animal. It looked like a cross between a dog and a horse, or a huge toothed horse more likely. I froze in the middle of my movement, but my fantasy was still running. I was looking at an Irish wolfhound with no man anywhere around. I told him: “Rex, you look very friendly, but you are far too big for me to love you.” Suddenly I heard: “Don’t worry, he is very friendly, he is our pet.” I probably did not look very brave at the moment, because they changed the course. And I swear I did not stink.
I evaluated that my body does not need a general repair yet after all, but my soul needed a bit of a fuel. And what is a perfect fuel to start up my soul? I solved this puzzle next day at the children’s sand pit. I think that all intellectuals from the whole city are meeting at sand pits. I overheard a little girl when she brilliantly and so easily explained to all women around that her mummy will never be old or fat.
Little girl: “Mom, when you will be a little girl again, will you build sand castles?”
Mummy: “No, honey. I cannot be a little girl again.”
Little girl: “Yes, but when you will be new? Will you build sand castles?”
Mummy: “No, honey. I can only be old and fat.”
Little girl: “But it means that daddy will have to be our mummy in this time, doesn’t it?”