I owe Sir Mix-a-Lot my first born.

Today as I was walking out of the Grand Canal Dock DART station I heard two girls behind me say, "She’s pear shaped, but she’s workin’ it." I heard it only because I had dropped my iPhone on the steps and my earphones popped out, otherwise I would have been blithely unaware.

The only part of this statement that was surprising was that an Irish girl said "workin’ it". This isn’t NYC in the early 90’s. I didn’t even know people here would say something as ridiculous as "workin’ it", but it seems these two girls, at least, have been watching a little too much 90210 with my boyfriend Luke Perry. He likes ‘em round and big.

My mother used to tell me that I would never have a big ass because she doesn’t have one. I don’t know where she got her information from, but my butt is nothing less than hefty and it’s not only the backend, but the hips and thighs as well. Maybe she thought ass was carried down through the maternal side of the family, but I can assure you I inherited everything except height from my father’s side of the family. Pale skin, light eyes, grumpy morning face and big butt. His recessive genes kicked my mother’s dominant genes right in the cajones and I’m suffering pear-dom because of it.

Even as a kid I knew that there was something slightly unfortunate about my lower half. While all the other girls ran around on stick legs, I thumped along on properly fed person legs. I was thightastic. By age 10 my metabolism hadn’t kicked in and so I gave up hope that I was ever be a skinny girl. I started to dance and cheerlead competitively around that time so my activity level went up which means I was more in shape but still a pear. I always wore the biggest sized cheerleading skirt, even though I was only maybe a medium in the sweater. Think of the girl with the large lower half in every dance recital you have ever had to sit through. There is always one. She looks awkward and about 5 years older than the other girls. You think she might actually have a 401k so she shouldn’t be dancing with the other children. THAT WAS ME.

By age 11 boys started to notice me for the few curves I did have, which would have been nice if the previous seven years of schooling didn’t beat down my confidence with the opposite sex. Sir Mix-a-Lot was like a perverted therapist for me and I will remain eternally grateful because I did end up with my first “boyfriend” by the age of 12 named Leigh. We held hands twice. I’m sure Leigh is grateful, as well.

I never really have embraced my pear-ness. I happen to go to college with the skinniest people in the tri-state area (mostly Long Island, let it be said) and then moved to a country where they aren’t exactly known for their heft. But, today, I was told that while I AM PEAR SHAPED, I am "workin’ it" and that’s much better than failing miserably.

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Liz in Dublin