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Also see A Female Perspective on Aging; Growing Older; For Women Only, Humor For Women Only, and Pretty Is as Pretty Does.
(Joanne Bailey Baxter, copyright 1991)
When I'm an old lady, I'll live with my kids,
and make them so happy, just as they did.
I want to pay back all the joy they've provided,
returning each deed. Oh, they'll be so excited.
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids.)
I'll write on the wall with reds, whites and blues,
and bounce on the furniture wearing my shoes.
I'll drink from the carton and then leave it out.
I'll stuff all the toilets, and oh, how they'll shout.
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids.)
When they're on the phone and just out of reach,
I'll get into things like sugar and bleach.
Oh, they'll snap their fingers and then shake their head,
and when that is done I'll hide under the bed.
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids.)
When they cook dinner and call me to meals,
I'll not eat my green beans or salads congealed.
I'll gag on my okra, spill milk on the table,
and when they get angry, run fast as I'm able.
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids.)
I'll sit close to the TV, through the channels I'll click,
I'll cross both my eyes to see if they stick.
I'll take off my socks and throw one away,
And play in the mud until the end of the day.
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids.)
And later in bed, I'll lay back and sigh,
and thank God in prayer and then close my eyes,
and my kids will look down with a smile slowly creeping,
and say with a groan. "She's so sweet when she's sleeping!"
(When I'm an old lady and live with my kids.)
___ (___) When I'm a little old lady /` `\ Then I'll live with my children / /"\ \ and bring them great joy. \_/o o\_/ To repay all I've had ( _ ) from each girl and boy `\ /` I shall draw on the walls /\\V//\ and scuff up the floor; / /_ _\ \ Run in and out \ \___/ / without closing the door. \/===\/ I'll hide frogs in the pantry, || || socks under my bed. || || Whenever they scold me, ||___|| I'll hang my head. |_____| I'll run and I'll romp, ||| always fritter away / Y \ The time to be spent `"`"` doing chores every day. I'll pester my children ___ when they are on the phone. (___) As long as they're busy /` `\ I won't leave them alone. / /"\ \ Hide candy in closets, \_/o o\_/ rocks in a drawer, ( _ ) And never pick up my clothes `\ /` from the floor. /\\V//\ Dash off to the movies / /_ _\ \ and not wash a dish. \ \___/ / I'll plead for allowance \/===\/ whenever I wish. || || I'll stuff up the plumbing || || and deluge the floor. ||___|| As soon as they've mopped it, |_____| I'll flood it some more. ||| When they correct me, / Y \ I'll lie down and cry, `"'"` ___ Kicking and screaming, (___) not a tear in my eye. /` `\ I'll take all their pencils / /"\ \ and flashlights, and then \_/o o\_/ When they buy new ones, ( _ ) I'll take them again. `\ /` I'll spill glasses of milk /\\V//\ to complete every meal, / /_ _\ \ Eat my banana and \ \___/ / just drop the peel. \/===\/ Put toys on the table, || || spill jam on the floor, || || I'll break lots of dishes ||___|| as though I were four. |_____| What fun I shall have, ||| what joy it will be to / Y \ Live with my children... `"`"` the way they lived with me!
(Mary Ann Hopkins)
When I'm an old lady, I'll live with my son,
and make his life happy and filled with such fun.
I want to pay back all the joy he's provided,
returning each deed. Oh, he'll be so excited.
...when I'm an old lady and live with my son.
I'll write on the wall with red, white, and blue;
and bounce on the furniture wearing my shoes.
I'll drink from the carton and then leave it out.
I'll stuff all the toilets and oh, he will shout.
...when I'm an old lady and live with my son.
When he's on the phone and just out of reach,
I'll get into things like sugar and bleach.
Oh, he'll snap his fingers and then shake his head,
and when he is done I'll hide under the bed.
...when I'm an old lady and live with my son.
When my son's wife cooks dinner and calls me to meals,
I'll not eat my green beans or salads congealed.
I'll gag on my okra, spill milk on the table,
and when she gets angry, run fast as I'm able.
...when I'm an old lady and live with my son.
I'll sit close to the TV, thru the channels I'll click.
I'll cross both my eyes to see if they stick.
I'll take off my socks and throw one away,
and play in the mud until the end of the day.
...when I'm an old lady and live with my son.
And later, in bed, I'll lie back and sigh,
and thank God in prayer and then close my eyes;
and my son will look down with a smile slowly creeping,
and say with a groan, "she's so sweet when she's sleeping."
...when I'm an old lady and live with my son.
(Maya Angelou)
|
When I was in my younger days, But now that I am older, Inventor of those high-heeled shoes |
And how about those pantyhose- I need to wear these glasses Though my hair has turned to gray |
My husband, being unhappy with my mood swings, bought me a mood ring so he would be able to monitor my moods.
We've discovered that when I'm in a good mood, it turns green. When I'm in a bad mood, it leaves a big red mark on his forehead.
Maybe next time he'll buy me a diamond...
My thighs were snatched from me during the night of March 22nd. It was just that quick. I went to sleep in my body and woke up with someone else's thighs. The new ones had the texture of cooked oatmeal. Who would have done such a cruel thing? Whose thighs were these? What happened to mine?
I spent that entire summer looking for them. I searched, in vain, at pools and beaches, anywhere I might find female limbs exposed. I became obsessed. I had nightmares filled with cellulite. Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned myself to living out my life in jeans and Sheer Energy pantyhose.
Then, just when my guard was down, the thieves struck again. My buns were next. I knew it was the same gang because they took pains to match my new derriere - although badly attached at least 3 inches lower than the original - to the thighs they had stuck me with earlier. Now my rear complimented my legs lump for lump. Frantic, I prayed that long skirts would stay in fashion.
It was 2 years later when I realized my arms had been switched. One morning while fixing my hair, I watched horrified but fascinated as the flesh of my upper arms swung to and fro with the motion of the hairbrush. This was really getting scary. My body was being replaced, cleverly and fiendishly, a section at a time.
Age? Age had nothing to do with it. Age creeps up, unnoticed and intangible, something like maturity. No. I was being attacked, repeatedly and without warning.
One spring, my attention was riveted to female upper arms. I studied them from every angle, being careful not to raise mine in public or flatten them too tightly against my body. In private I held them straight out and did endless circles that would have tightened my real arms but did nothing for these silly putty caricatures. In the end, in deepening despair, I gave up my arms and my T-shirts. What could they do to me next?
In short order, my boobs could hold a pencil. My poor neck disappeared more quickly than the Thanksgiving turkey it now reminded me of.
That's why I've decided to tell my story. I can't take on the medical profession by myself. Women of America, wake up and smell the coffee! That isn't really "plastic" those surgeons are using. You know where they're getting those replacement parts, don't you.
The next time you suspect someone has had a face "lifted", look again. Was it lifted from you? Check out those tummy tucks and raised buttocks. Look familiar? Are those your eyelids on that movie star? I think I finally may have found my thighs. I hope Cindy Crawford paid a really good price for them.
Introducing the new, improved MIDLIFE BARBIE: Now at long last, here are some NEW Barbie dolls to coincide with her and OUR aging gracefully. These are a bit more realistic...
A very weird thing has happened. A strange old lady has moved into my house. I have no idea where she came from, or how she got in. I certainly did not invite her. All I know is that one day she wasn't there, and the next day, she was.
She is a clever old lady, and manages to keep out of sight for the most part, but whenever I pass a mirror, I catch a glimpse of her. And whenever I look in the mirror to check my appearance, there she is hogging the whole thing, completely obliterating my gorgeous face and body. This is very rude. I have tried screaming at her, but she just screams back.
If she insists on hanging around, the least she could do is offer to pay part of the rent, but no. Every once in a while, I find a dollar bill stuck in a coat pocket, or some loose change under a sofa cushion, but it is not nearly enough.
I don't want to jump to conclusions, but I think she is stealing money from me. I go to the ATM and withdraw $100, and a few days later it's all gone. I certainly don't spend money THAT fast, so I can only conclude that the money is to buy wrinkle cream. She needs it. And money isn't the only thing I think she is stealing. Food seems to disappear at an alarming rate - especially the good stuff like ice cream, cookies, and candy. I can't seem to keep that stuff in the house anymore. She must have a real sweet tooth, but she'd better watch it, because she is really packing on the pounds. I suspect she realizes this, and to make herself feel better, she is tampering with my scale to make me think I am putting on weight, too.
For an old lady, she is quite childish. She likes to play nasty games, like going into my closets when I'm not home and altering my clothes so they don't fit. And she messes with my files and papers so I can't find anything. This is particularly annoying since I am extremely neat and organized. She also fiddles with my VCR so it does not record what I have carefully and correctly programmed.
She has found other imaginative ways to annoy me. She gets into my mail, newspapers, and magazines before I do, and blurs the print so I can't read it. And she has done something really sinister to the volume controls on my TV, radio and telephone. Now, all I hear are mumbles and whispers.
She has done other things - like make my stairs steeper, my vacuum cleaner heavier and all my knobs and faucets harder to turn. She even made my bed higher so that getting into and out of it is a real challenge. Lately, she has been fooling with my groceries before I put them away, applying glue to the lids, making it almost impossible for me to open the jars. Is this any way to repay my hospitality?
She has taken the fun out of shopping for clothes. When I try something on, she stands in front of the mirror and monopolizes it. She looks totally ridiculous in some of those outfits, plus, she keeps me from seeing how great they look on me.
Just when I thought she couldn't get any meaner, she proved me wrong. She came along when I went to get my picture taken for my driver's license, and just as the camera shutter clicked, she jumped in front of me! No one is going to believe that the picture of that old lady is me.
Answer to riddle at top of page: You can negotiate with a terrorist.