Cinderella Has Cellulite (12 page)

Should you fess up to your Beloved? “Darling, I’ve had a little work. No one knows, but I want to be totally honest with you. You probably wouldn’t have noticed as it didn’t change me that much . . . ”

Note that you should squint hard while you are confessing so you can spot any telltale scars around his ears. Run your hands through his hair to inspect any remnants of a toupee, paying close attention to any little bumps signifying implant rows. Moving right along, scrutinize his teeth for any clacking or movement, ugly black blobs signaling neglected dental visits or badly matched implants. Inspect him like a jockey inspects his steed at the Kentucky Derby. After all, you want a sturdy horse and a smooth ride to the Winner’s Circle.

Feel no shame, Inspector Clouseau. You can bet He is ogling every inch of your body, too. Odds are your brazen Womanizer is carefully comparing you to his last conquest. So, if you’ve gone from small apples to large cantaloupes, and your Honey is eyeballing those perfect Cs, it might be time for you to come clean. Even though you might feel a bit squeamish telling him of your time under the knife, if He is part of the Big Boobs Boys Club, the bigger the better. It won’t faze him a bit that a man has been there before!

If you do happen to discover any peculiar scars, scalp conditions, or cavities with your Beloved, your head may want your heart to rethink this. “He is damaged goods!” your brain may signal you. “It will take a small fortune just to keep him in working order.” Your mind may even go to a weird place where you picture the two of you frolicking in bed . . .
What if his toupee swerves, or his dentures puncture my Cs? Can you catch cavities?
You’ve got decisions to make, but if He is a wonderful person and full of love, so what if He is a little maimed?

H
is friends, Her friends, their friends, my friends, our friends, his kids’ friends, your kids’ friends . . . in a blended family, friends never end! Of course, they have your best interest in mind. They form early and instant opinions of your new relationship, which simply validates the old adage that opinions are like armpits—everybody has one.

Let’s start with Her Friends. Here they come—many times in cloak and dagger. It is not just the gal pals who can inflict pain; the men involved can be just as sinister. Just when you think you are looking like a 10, they proceed to tell you about Her lovely eyes, Her kind manner or how She was a lively conversationalist. You are stopped dead in your stilettos as you half-listen to their recollections! But you thought Prince Charming told you she was Godzilla’s older sister, complete with hairy armpits and unshaven legs? Oh, and the cellulite—it was simply unbearable for him.

Or worse, She may actually have been perfect in every way: wise, gorgeous, and fun. It is amazing to you that your Don Juan could have bagged the Perfect Woman. Regardless of how She got away, the fact remains that She is gone. He feels the loss and you might want to do the same. This may even be your opportunity to let your rearview mirror fog and say, “Hi ho, Silver. I am outta here!”

What about Your Friends? OMG! Do they ever shut up? They pontificate on your New Man every time you are together, wanting answers to their questions. Is He good in bed? What present did He buy you? Does He ever talk about Her? Depending on their mood, they might even chide you, “You could do better . . . ” Or, “You should bag the sucker, just like She did.”

His Kids’ Friends may be quick to engage you in conversation if they’re young, but their innocent friendliness might come with a price. While eating a snack you just served, one of them happens to say, “Mrs. Last Wife, Tommy’s mommy could make the best homemade brownies I ever tasted.” You’d like to stuff the dried-out Oreos you bought last week down his lying little throat.

“Get outta here kid, this is my house,” you want to say. But is it Her or his house, or theirs? Wow! Am I confused!

Worse yet, his grown-up kids’ friends are capable of inflicting flesh wounds. They are coming, so be prepared. Here’s a potential scenario. You are innocently shopping in a small boutique near your house. (Or is it his house? Her house? Here we go again . . . ). The store clerk is deftly trying to identify if you are the potential new Last Wife. In that case, she’ll be syrupy sweet as she has missed the commissions from the former Last Wife. You smile and explain how great your Knight in Shining Armor is when suddenly around the aisle of designer dresses comes the Frenemy! Beware, she is the Best Friend of your newly inherited daughter, the one with whom you are attempting to bond without much luck.

Nevertheless, you express delight at seeing her (having hopefully recognized her importance in the pecking order). She throws eye daggers at you, forcefully showing a slit of a tooth intended to suffice as a smile. With a glance at the new dress in your hand, she then lowers the boom. “Oh, so-and-so’s mother was a size 2. I thought you were Her size!”