Yes, this is a post about a potato (I think I have stooped to a new low). A potato which made me laugh a little when my mum picked it up and went to peel it a couple of days ago (clearly I was having an extremely boring day). I temporarily rescued it from the peeler (and from becoming part of a shepherd’s pie) to take a photo of it, because it reminded me a lot of a part of myself (and I was genuinely that amused. Tragic, I know, but it provided some comic relief).
“Hey look, it’s my heart!” I said. She rolled her eyes,
“It looks like a bottom to me.”
And I decided that was a pretty fair representation of the type of responses my body tends to get. Sometimes I wonder if dusty old potatoes might work better – for starters, if a potato ever became useless, it would make fabulous chips (or fries, as most other places call them).