Yikes! Have you noticed as we age, we start looking more like our husbands? We wear our pants higher, our underpants looser, our hair shorter, our shoes flatter and we even have the odd whisker popping out in the darndest places. And don’t get me started on the old-man grunts I make when I get out of a chair!
It’s a crap shoot: What is it about getting older that makes us want to get special deals and free stuff? Is it because we’re on a fixed income, or maybe because we’ve lived long enough to earn a better price? Or do we just get cheaper as we age; afraid we’ll outlive our money in the reality game of aging roulette?
Cheap cheep: And you gotta luv how so many aging boomers eagerly morph into early-bird cottonheads. Not only do they get the wiggly worm, they get 2 for 1 dinners, 1/2 price drinks and doggie bags filled with mushy leftovers.
Like crows on a wire: Years ago, before I was a woman of a certain age, I used to visit my aging aunt Bernice in Florida. She never cooked and ate out all the time. I was horrified at how we would always arrive early and line-up for dinner at 4:00pm. It was usually a buffet so the old codgers and codgerettes could get their money’s worth.
Free take-out: I remember once, aunt Bernice had forgotten to take a Ziploc bag into the restaurant. But that didn’t stop her. She simply fished a plastic rain-hat out of her purse – you remember the kind that folded up like a cheap fan? Then she asked me to load it up with chicken thighs from the buffet on our way out. Kill me now!
Words to live by: My aunt has sadly passed on and here I am, the same age she was at the time mentioned above. But I don’t feel old, I don’t own a plastic rain-hat and I don’t steal food from a buffet…as yet. And, as Hubsey always says, “I don’t line up for food or sex.”
Stuck in time: In my dreams, I’m always 32. I know this because people ask me my age (in my dreams). I’m never any older and never any younger; always 32 years old! Slim waist, long blonde hair, killer stilettos, and not an aching bone in my body.
Reality bites: But then I wake-up and see that strange old woman in the mirror, and I ask her, “Who the hell are you?”
Pat Skene
See you between the lines!
Boomerrantz 
Well I’m not feeling the urge for an early bird buffet dinner either, but sister I hear you concerning the aches and pains followed by grunts and groans. In my experience they can be quietened considerably with a little red or white. Keep on dreaming those dreams, as I recall 32 was a very good year!
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A good year indeed Blanche. I met my 2nd Hubsey that year and everything else that came before, faded away. Cheers!
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I remember your old aunt Bernice when she used to visit your brother, Bruce, our then neighbour. You should be so lucky if your “old” age is half as much fun as she seemed to be having.
Enjoy your rantz. k
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Yes Kathy – she was a pistol all right! I’d be hard-pressed to follow in her ballroom-dancing footsteps! Thanks for your comment.
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While we haven’t succumbed to early bird dinners– we do like late afternoon movies and early dinner after rather than late movies. Oh well… a former boyfriend’s father used to say– “We mock the things we are to be.”
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To be or not to be…that’s the age-old question. Nice to hear from you.
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I hear you sister. Who the hell are you? And how did you get into my body?
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Maybe an exorcist would do the trick. Or a good old-fashioned codger cleanse. Thanks for dropping by Mary.
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Yes…my mother used to say “I look in the mirror and wonder who that old lady is looking back at me?” She still felt like she was 19! I now understand that comment much more. We all had “Aunt Bernice” experiences like that…still makes me smile.
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Bless her heart, she was a going concern all her life, especially in matters of the heart. She always had one in the saddle and another one holding the horse. Thanks for dropping in JJ.
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Aunt Bernice taught us all some good old people habits. She taught my husband to rip paper towels in half and only use half of one at a time. Sometimes he will bring me only a morsel of one….just to get me going! I never saw her as an old lady until the last few years of her life .
But when I look in the mirror, I see myself as an old lady and wonder who that is!
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I think the answer is right in front of us. Let’s get rid of all those damn mirrors! Thanks Britt girl.
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Great post!
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Thanks Jess.
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My mom always said she felt like a young woman inside even when she was in her 80s. I think it must be pretty common. As is the shock of seeing ourselves in the mirror. 🙂
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Right on both counts. Nice to hear from you.
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