Jan 07 2009
Break Out the Prune Juice
I apologize if I start rambling on and on about nothing in particular and regale you with stories about how I walked uphill both ways, barefoot, in the snow, to school. I also apologize if I meet you in person and fall asleep in the middle of a conversation. Unfortunately, that’s what happens when you get old.
Tomorrow, I will begin researching nursing homes. I’m hoping for a nice place that offers plenty of activities both indoor and out. A place where I can just go and whither away.
You see, two nights ago, I found my first gray hair.
Did you read that?! Gray hair!
Noooooooooooooo!
And, to make matters worse, I plucked it out of my head, which, as I hear it, means two more will grow in its place.
Noooooooooooooo!
Two gray hairs!
Artist rendering of me in two months:
It’s okay. I have already resigned myself to my plight. Turk is aware that my hearing is failing and I have instructed him to change my bedpans regularly. I knew this was coming, especially after I became a Grandma a few months ago.
Who knew 26 was the new 80?
For now, I must excuse myself to go watch my stories, crochet, and drink my prune juice. And stay off my damn lawn, you hooligans.
