So, the apprentice and I are talking about the upcoming bikini season, and I mentioned that I have a tankini for days when I look at my body and go “omigod, I’ve had a kid, I’m so saggy, yuck.”
“Oh, that won’t happen to me,” she says.
“You don’t know what your body will do when you’re pregnant,” I say.
“No, I won’t get saggy skin.”
“You don’t know that, though.”
“Well, my mom has a bunch of kids and she doesn’t have any stretch marks or anything.”
“Well, yes, but wasn’t your mother much younger than you when she had her kids?”
“Yeah, but I lotion my skin every day.”
“That’s nice, but still, if you lose, like, 60 pounds in two months, you’ll still have saggy skin.”
“I lost 30 pounds in a month.”
“I don’t believe you, and also, was 25 pounds of that in one hellish stretch of childbirth?” (Note: portions of this sentence, up to, and including, all of it, may have been spoken only in my mind.)
“Well, good luck,” is what I actually said.