Tummies are tricky. Especially in January when they have a way of escaping from waistbands and wanting to pop out the top of trousers or from underneath jumpers to wave hello in person. “Look at me! Haven’t I done WELL over December?” they say cheerily. And we hiss and poke them crossly and try and squish them back into pants or tights or skirts or all three at once. Only to have them pop out all over again happily a few minutes later.
My tum is a bouncy Jack-in-the-Box surprise made out of marzipan, pastry and sausage roll at the moment.
But tummies can be delightful on other people. My sons use the soft, deep squidginess of mine as pillow or play doh substitute with great satisfaction. In turn their baby tums were endlessly delicious for me to plant raspberries on or tickle.
There is satisfaction in the cup-of-tea-ledge stage of a pregnant tum too.
But the best tummies must be furry ones. Time for today’s gratuitous Jones pic. He is never shy about showing off his delightful belly.
Which recalls another excellent furry, if occasionally-troublesome-when-trying-to get-out-of-a-hole, belly-
In fact, maybe, rather than the fasting, juicing, bending and wrapping in Lycra that we are all exhorted to undergo at this time of year in order to get our tummies to hide away in decent fashion, furring might be a much better way to go. One could acquire a lovely soft pelt around the middle to stroke softly on a winter’s evening. What do you think? What fur would you favour? (I’m choosing mid-length striped butterscotch I think)
And do you have a different favourite literary tummy?