Nothing pleasant comes to mind when I see the word squat.
Instantly I visualise a gym with super muscle toned bodies performing sets of squats whilst hardly raising a sweat; segue to me red faced, looking less than ravishing in my leggings and t shirt, face contorted and every muscle in my body on fire and screaming at me to stop. No thank you.
This charming vision is then replaced by a woman in a rice paddy having stopped her labouring to squat and give birth; all in a day’s work really. No pain relief or medical attention here.. again, no thank you.
My mind then changes channels and sees a derelict, ramshackle house with rubbish strewn across the front lawn complete with burnt out shells of the odd car or two. Inside scattered amongst the filth and squalor are various semblances of human life… leeches happy to live unlawfully on another’s property. Would I ever embrace a squatter’s lifestyle? No thank you…
I then cross to bathroom matters and again squat does not paint a pretty picture. Visions of lovely stick figure caricatures of women squatting over a toilet with a big cross over them next to the stick figure sitting on the toilet with a big tick float in my head. Gone are the days when you could enter a public toilet without instructions on how to perform!
My final thought on the matter is the charming saying used to express the lack of knowledge one has. What do I know about this?
I know diddly squat!
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