If the spuds are mashed, shredded, fried, baked, scalloped or boiled…bring them on!
As a matter of fact, I’m spending a lot of time in my pantry contemplating life over a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips. Ahhh, to be Mrs. Arthur Treacher.
I find potatoes are an especially odd craving. Perhaps my body is low in potassium. Upon deeper reflection, maybe my body was trying to tell me something when I suffered that crippling ass cramp while stretching in my last fitness class.
After all, the once-a-month chocolate cravings have subsided for this menopausal woman. Maybe potato cravings are natural as women age. Apparently sweet potatoes help eliminate hot flashes and what middle-aged woman doesn’t need a little vitamin A to slow down vision loss so she can get a little more wear out of those rhinestone readers she just got on sale at Steinmart.
I’m a regular Mrs. Potato Head, literally.
When you think about it, she’s the perfect poster gal for middle-aged women.
Who wants to be Barbie at age 50?
Look at the way Mrs. Potato Head rocks her body.
How convenient to have holes in the top of my head that perfectly secure my glasses? I don’t know how many times I circle the house screaming, “Has anyone seen my glasses?” and they are right on top of my head.
No need for an eye lift or lip injections to perk up my face. When I get up in the morning, I’ll just choose a look and pop it in. No more bursitis in my shoulder from hauling that over-stuffed Kate Spade hand bag around town.
Mrs. Potato Head’s arms are conveniently bent for sporting that cute little red plastic number.
No more worries that my ass is too round or too wide. Mrs. Potato Head is literally equipped to hold junk in her trunk.
And the best part about being Mrs. Potato Head, no panic about not being able to zip up my pants over my menopot or if the underwire in my bra is sturdy enough to hold up my breasts that are now one with gravity.
All Mrs. Potato Head needs is a big smile and a great pair of shoes and she’s ready to take on the day.
I wonder what Mrs. Potato Head craves?
Probably a waist. You always want what you don’t have. Even a middle-age gal that’s as perfect as Mrs. Potato Head.