About the same time I learned multiplication tables — along with schooling in excusing myself when walking in front of someone and covering my mouth when I coughed — my mother started my instruction of another sort.

Several times a day, I’d hear her reminder: “Elaine, stand up straight. And, for goodness sakes, hold in your stomach.”

Memory served me pretty well with regard to multiplication tables, and I remembered to excuse myself when walking in front of others, but my stomach was a slow learner. Not to this day has my stomach learned to be held in.

In the winter, the pooched stomach problem is of less concern. I wear jackets and loose sweaters that come down to my hips, which somewhat conceal protrusion. Fewer people are then aware that my stomach has a mind of its own.

But summer is now here. In warm weather when one doesn’t wear such camouflage, there are constant reminders of the need for remembering Mother’s instructions. I walk down Third Street and catch a glimpse of my body profile in a shop window — and there it is again. My stomach. Indeed it appears as the most prominent part of my body. Despite these many years of tutoring, it has not learned a thing. My mother would have despaired.

I’m thinking my stomach should have belonged to a man. Never have I heard a mom tell her son to hold in his stomach. Nor did I ever tell our son to hold in his stomach. But his stomach never protruded. Women’s stomachs discriminate against us — perhaps because of the difference in men’s and women’s physiques.

Or perhaps adult males are not as vain as women with regard to their figures. Do men care if their stomach does protrude? And even if it does, their clothing does much to conceal that figure fault. If a woman wears a sleek, glamorous, form-fitting evening gown and her stomach protrudes, the beautiful picture is somewhat marred. If a man is duded up in a tuxedo, even a beer belly is concealed by tuxedo grandeur.

As a child, I never thought to question my mother as to why it was so necessary for a young girl or woman to hold in her stomach. When I first received tutelage in this, I thought — along with saying please and thank you — it had to do with manners. But that is not the case.

Although a stomach that sticks out may be noticed by others, it surely in no way insults or offends, so one concludes that holding in the stomach is solely for appearance’s sake. But if such is the case, one wonders why our society should have decided that a protruding stomach is unattractive.

Although I did not argue with Mother’s instructions, it seemed to me quite logical that every time one put a sizable quantity of food in the stomach, it would logically react. So why this big to-do about nature responding as it should?

When we look in the sun and squint, our mothers do not say, “For goodness sakes, do not squint.” It is a natural reaction of the eyes to bright light. So, too, an enlarged stomach is the natural response to intake of food.

Although it seems unlikely, I wish our society approved of stomachs that can’t be held in. Why should they not approve of it? It is the sign of a healthy, well-fed body in these days when many people are going hungry, just as rosy cheeks, sparkling eyes and glowing complexion bespeak of healthy nutrition.

In an effort to better understand the thinking of our society with regard to this, I researched. The encyclopedia advised that the stomach is pear shaped and balloon-like; about a foot long and 5 inches across and that it can hold more than two quarts of food. Food remains in the stomach about four hours.

This did not help. My stomach does not react as it should. In the morning when I get up, although it has been without food for 12 hours and should be empty of food, it still is not flat. And, although its memory seems to be at fault in other ways, it remembers that it protruded the evening before — and does so again.

If, after eating lunch at noon and my stomach then protrudes as a result of food, why, four hours later when it has supposedly digested all, is it still distended? Further, I have by no means consumed two quarts of food, so why was it not willing to stay in its natural form?

Apparently, this is not just of concern to me, but of worldwide concern to women everywhere. Magazines periodically carry articles that attempt to help. The cover of a recent magazine promised readers help with the article contained therein: “Ten Ways to Get Rid of Your Belly.”

I bought the magazine and religiously did the suggested exercises for a time. My stomach laughed at me.

When exercises did not help, I tried other things. If I was in a photo, I stood behind someone else and peeked out from behind. I learned to cross my arms, holding them or my purse in front of me. I stopped wearing belts — especially wide leather belts that squeezed my stomach into a more confined space and compounded the problem. I discontinued tucking in blouses and bought sack dresses. Those designers of sack dresses know what they are doing.

And I sought understanding from Homer.

He had a suggestion. “You know,” he said, “when we take a vacation, you come back all rested after a couple of weeks of inactivity. Maybe your stomach is telling you that it can’t cooperate because every day — usually three times a day — you’ve put it to work, all these many years.”

Homer may be right. The trouble is, I haven’t yet figured out when I can let my stomach go on vacation.

Elaine Rohse is a longtime McMinnville resident who shares a love of traveling and golf with her husband, Homer.