Dear Tiny Girl in line in front of me at the CVS,
Hi. I know you don't know me, but I couldn't help but notice your lovely tattoo. I know it is only March, but God bless you, wear that crop sweatshirt and those low rise jeans.
When you turned around to say something to your friend behind you, I know you heard me gasp. Your hip bones. And that flat little, stretch mark free belly. Lord. I wanted to grab you by the hand and take you over to Starbucks. I wanted to tell you a few things...
Like how no matter how strong that maternal instinct is, do not birth children. I know that sounds harsh. But, you'll thank me someday. Those hips will disappear faster than you can say "the condom broke." Even if they return, they won't be the same.
That flat little belly? Also will disappear. In its place? Something we 37 year olds refer to as "the Pooch." Don't make me show you mine. You are too young to see it. Just take my word for it. No matter what anyone says, stretch marks DO NOT GO AWAY. Do you want to take the risk of getting them? NO MA'AM. Just don't have babies.
Also, since I am sharing my wisdom with you. That tattoo there, on your back? I hope that is your dad's name. or maybe your favorite pet. If it isn't, start saving your money now, because you are going to HATE it once you two break up. I know, sweetheart, you two will be together, forever. But when forever gets here, you are going to want to have it removed. Just sayin.
One more thing...all the make up? You don't need it. The eyeliner MIGHT be a little dark...just tone it down a little bit. You have a pretty face. Show it.
You don't have to thank me now...
You, twenty years ago.