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.
We love prunes and prune juice in our house. My brother’s kids hate it. So, once when we were visiting my Dad, he kept feeding the younger one prune after prune. She was about 6.When I found out, I said NO, Dad, don’t. My kids are fine in that way. It’s David’s kids who are constipated!
The next sound we heard was thew little one exploding off the toilet like a rocket.
Lindsay,
Repeat after me…”Of course this is my natural color. No, I would never consider dye. I always look this good. Children make you younger.”
Each of these lies told in good faith will delay your trips to the home.
That’s what hair dye’s for! Here’s something to cheer you up:
You’ve been nominated for a Lemonade Award!
http://beyondbulimia.today.com
HaHa! Lindsay, you made me smile and that’s not easy to do today. I just returned from an emergency trip to the dentist. I broke my tooth eating a wimpy little pretzel. See, I really am getting old. Things are breakin’ all of this body!
You’re a long way from old, darlin! I do remember the first grey hair I saw though. Now, it has some friends. Thankfully, not many yet though!