Paul Rudd and My Butt

I have always had a pretty flat butt.  Always, that is, until I started working out with my trainer Friday.  Friday has created a butt out of nothing.  A mini J. Lo so to speak.  Lots of squats and lunges have done the trick.  He is so nice that I will do whatever exercises he thinks up for me, no matter how brutal.

A few months ago I started to notice the change in my butt.  The first time I saw it I was running outside and caught a glimpse of myself in a window as I ran by.  What’s that? I wondered, looking at the round butt I was passing.  Who has a butt like that? I was shocked when I realized that it was me.

I became obsessed.  Every time I went into the gym I would catch myself looking at my butt in the mirror, from various angles.  I couldn’t believe I actually had a bit of a tush after so many years of nothing.

“Look at my butt,” I told an adorable guy in my gym.  He tended to work out with his trainer at the same time as I worked out with mine, and we had become “gym buddies” so to speak.

He looked.

“I have a J. Lo butt now,” I continued.  “I used to have no butt at all, but look at what Friday gave me!”

He looked some more.

“Very nice,” he said, though he made it clear that it was no J. Lo butt.

My gym friend was very familiar looking.  Clean cut face, quite adorable.  Very much the boy next door.  Did I know him from somewhere?

A week or so passed and a broker from my office said, “You’re so lucky that Paul Rudd moved into your building! He’s so adorable.”

Oh no! Paul Rudd? Paul Rudd was the guy I was bragging about my butt with? The guy I was complaining to about my torturous workouts? The guy I teased when he came in sporting a hideous raggedy beard?


By the way… he is adorable.  He is nice.  He works out hard.  He’s the perfect neighbor, especially when he’s clean-shaven.

He is as cute in person as on the big screen.  I love him.


About mallorylayne

midlife mom seeking meaning for the rest of her life.
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