Some people hate Mondays. Not me. Some people can hardly wait for the weekdays to be over and done with, so they can get down to the serious business of squeezing every ounce of pleasure out of the weekend as they can. Not me.
See, once you smash face-first into the glorious age of retirement, every single day has as much potential to be a Funday as the day before... and the day after.
However, I must confess... I do have a certain affinity for Wednesdays.
That's because Wednesday is senior discount day.
Last week, I decided to cash in on a hard-to-resist double-header. Not only do the grocery store and hair cutting chain store both offer old fogie discounts on Wednesdays, but (ta-DA!) they're right next door to each other. Convenient, right?
So, I go diddy-bopping into the hair butcher first, happy as a piggie in the mud.
Until it was time to pay.
They didn't think I was old enough to merit their stinkin' discount.
I mean, just because my Cinderella hair was tied up in a pony tail, and I was blowing bubbles with my chewing gum didn't mean I wasn't old.
Just because I was wearing hot pants and go-go boots
didn't mean I wasn't OLD, dammit.
Now, if you need it, I'll give you the last dollar in my wallet. Hungry? I'll gladly share my food. Cold? I'll give you the shirt off my ... okay, so maybe not that, but you get the point. But DO NOT MESS WITH MY SENIOR DISCOUNT. (Even if it IS only ten cents...) Nice person that I am, I explained to the young gals in the shop that you don't have to look old or act old to be old. I flashed my ID ... and my pearly whites.
And I got my damned discount. Life is good.
Okay, so I wasn't really wearing hot pants. What can I say? The darned things shrunk like crazy since I last wore them. Wasn't wearing that (shudder) shirt, either. Ditto the boots. (My go-go boots went-went a long time ago.)
But if I can find them, I'm gonna have to get a pair of these hot pink ones for the next time I get my hair cut ... just for a laugh. They should go quite nicely with my gray sweat pants, dontcha think?
Isn't wrinkled or drawn.
My house isn't dirty---
The cobwebs are gone.
My garden is lovely,
And so is my lawn.
I think I will not
Put my glasses back on.
Oops, gotta run. I hear they're having a wet shawl contest at the senior center tonight, so I gotta get ready. What can I say? This red hot grandma was born to be wild.
Until next time, take care of yourself. And each other.