Category Archives: Growing old

What You Doin’ in the Bathroom?

Google images: dreamstime.com

Google images: dreamstime.com

My wife is always late. But sometimes the slipper is on the other shoe, and she was banging on the bathroom door last Tuesday for me to hurry up.

“What are you doing in there?” she asked. “We have to meet Millie and Bob at the popsicle festival now!”

“Well,” I haven’t primped for a day and a half,” I said, “and things are already getting out of control in here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? The waffle-cone rodeo starts in fifteen minutes!”

“Okay, okay!” I cried. “My routine is kind of private. Must you stand right outside the door listening?”

“I’d be interested in hearing what your finicky grooming procedure actually is,” I heard her mutter as she walked away from the bathroom door.

Okay. I’ll admit it. It takes me longer than it used to to go out in public.

To get ready, I have to scrape my earwax with a key.

I have to shave my ear lobes and drums.

I have to insert my tooth plate.

I have to cover my tooth plate with a plastic white tooth-covering protective and decorative drape, which I bought from an infomercial for just $19.95. And after having called the informercial’s toll-free number, I received a second protective tooth tarp for free except for having to pay for shipping.

I have to rub wet coffee grounds into my goatee to eliminate the grey.

I have to dust and paste my eyebrows.

I have tamp my nasal hair.

I have to rub coconut oil on my elbow.

I have to tape the skin tag under my arm.

Finally I was ready to go. My wife was waiting in the car, beeping occasionally.

We were halfway down the street when I gasped in alarm. “We have to go back! I forgot my three-pronged photographic selfie crane!”

We finally met up with Bob and Millie. “Sorry we’re late,” I told Bob. “The wife overslept.”

 

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Filed under Communication, Exercise, Family, Fun, Growing old, Happy to help, Humor, Interpersonal conflicts, Life challenges, Marriage, Oops, Relationships, social media, Time, Time management, Travel, Trust, You're not alone!

Why Do Others Know More about Me than I Do?

Google images: christianfunnypictures.com

Google images: christianfunnypictures.com

“Hi Blair!”

“Hi Ed,” I said as I walked through the door of the church.

“Hey, I heard that you have psoriasis on your armpit. How is that working out for you?”

“Ed,” I said. “How do you know I have psoriasis? That’s rather private and heartbreaking!”

“It’s not so private, Blair. Someone posted it on social media!”

Before I reached the sanctuary, two other people had asked about my psoriasis, one person congratulated me on the anniversary of my first prom, and another offered sympathy for my nail fungus.

I tried to forget about my life on Faceslap and the resulting lack of privacy. I settled into the pew and listened to the pastor preach. After he was finished, he said, “We have several prayer requests this week, including the asthma of Martine’s Uncle Joe and the hemorrhoids of Blair Woodcock.”

Time froze. Everyone’s heads swiveled in slow motion as their languid eyes fixed themselves on me. The blood rushed to my face and I couldn’t breath under a hot crashing wave of embarrassment. My mouth went dry. I wanted to melt away into my seat. I would have squirmed, but I was afraid squirming would appear as if I were contending with an itchy symptom.

After the service, church elder Mabel Glutz approached me. “I just so happened to have some Preparation H in my satchel!” she announced gleefully. As I slunk out the door, I heard a few other voices offering me doctor recommendations and home remedies.

I’d go to another church, but social media are interdenominational. I heard there’s a good church service on TV… I might try that next time.

Meanwhile, I need to log on to Chirper to tell my followers about my neighbor’s gastric bypass debacle.

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Filed under Communication, Family, Friendship, Fun, Growing old, Happy to help, Humor, Interpersonal conflicts, Life challenges, Oops, Relationships, social media, Technology, Time, Trust, You're not alone!

Unemployment-O-Rama

Google images: theemployable.com

Google images: theemployable.com

It is fun to be unemployed. An entire world of possibilities opens to a jobless person. Imagine the fanciful daydreams you’ll conceive and the novel experiences you’ll suffer!

Open your email inbox for instance. Suddenly your fantasies run helter-skelter as you consider all the berserk opportunities that await you and your miserable life. Here, for example, are some of the employment emails I received this week:

  1. Answering Service: Answer the phone in the complaint department of Insults-R-Us.
  2. Airline Baggage Loser: Lose bags and suitcases for travelers and airline employees.
  3. Zero Experience Associate: After gaining experience, we will fire you in favor of a negative experience associate.
  4. Meter Reader: Read meters that are written in Greek. If you don’t understand Greek, you can read meters in Urdu.
  5. Warehouse Unloader: Must be able to lift warehouses weighing many thousands of tons.

    Google images: giphy.com

    Google images: giphy.com

  6. Early-Morning Postal Worker: To ensure prompt arrival at job, employee must sleep on chain link fence.
  7. Greeter: Crabby personality a plus.
  8. Librarian Trainee: Organize, categorize, and reshelve books in a caboose.
  9. No Experience Worker: Only the lazy, incapacitated, or dead need apply. Our motto: “The Deader the Better.”
  10. Food Service Representative: Defend bananas against those who say fruit pulp makes you fat.
  11. Document Specialist: Listen to stacks of paper with a stethoscope.
  12. Appeals and Denial Manager: Deny appeals and appeal denials. Argumentative and irascible personality preferred.
  13. Part Time Packer: Pack your bags while working, because you will soon be sent packing.
  14. Coffee Maker: Heat-tolerant applicants only, with a capacity for grounds.
  15. Order Puller: Occasional need for order pushing. Or tooth pulling. Or tooth pushing. Whatever. Don’t bother applying. We don’t want you.
  16. Material Handler: Handle material.
  17. Night Selector: Join the illustrious list of former employees, including lyricist George Benson (“Give Me the Night”).

Wasn’t that fun? Now prop yourself up in bed and find the clicker, because your afternoon game show is on.

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Filed under Communication, Education, Family, Fun, Growing old, Happy to help, Humor, Interpersonal conflicts, Job search, Life challenges, Oops, Relationships, Technology, Time, Time management, Trust, Unemployment, You're not alone!

This Is Not My Dad!

Google images: livinghealthyonline.wordpress.com

Google images: livinghealthyonline.wordpress.com

Little Biffy was sitting in the shopping cart one day while I selected groceries from the shelves. He was contentedly playing with his Taser when he looked up at me. I’m not sure if a demon entered him or if his nascent sense of humor was blossoming, but he suddenly screamed out:

“You’re not my Dad!”

I was shocked and dumbfounded. My mouth hung open and my eyes bulged, because I am his Dad.

Biff looked to the right and the left. “He’s not my Dad!” he screamed. “He’s an imposter!”

“What?” I hissed. “Biffy, what are you talking about? This is not a good joke! We’re in a supermarket!” I grabbed his little chin to emphasize his need to hush.

The woman by the breadcrumbs turned. Her brows furrowed and she squinted grimly at me. I looked at her, trying to appear innocent.

“He’s starving me!” Biff continued. “He won’t feed me any nourishment!”

The woman started searching her purse for her cell phone.

“Biff! Just because I told you that you can’t have another chocolate quarter-pounder doesn’t mean I’m starving you! You just ate two bags of caramel corn in the car!”

Biff started pounding his little fists and kicking his feet against the wire cart.

“Don’t crush the egg noodles!” I shouted.

By that time a crowd had gathered. Over the loudspeaker I heard, “Security to fruit juices for an incident…”

Biff had put me in an uncomfortable predicament from which I could not easily extricate myself. Next to Biff’s ear, I whispered through gritted teeth, “Tell these nice people I’m your Dad, or you’ll never get to watch Halloween 5 again!”

Biff laughed. “Just kidding,” he told the crowd. “He really is my dad. I just enjoy seeing him sweat!”

Yes, Biff’s sense of humor began to flourish that day in the supermarket aisle. When he turned thirteen, I made him join the circus.

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Filed under Children, Communication, Education, Family, Fun, Growing old, Happy to help, Humor, Interpersonal conflicts, Life challenges, Oops, Parenting, Relationships, Trust, You're not alone!

GPS PMS

Google images: gonzosabroad-blogspot-com

Google images: gonzosabroad-blogspot-com

The overly pleasant voice of my GPS said: “In 400 feet… turn right…”

I drove obediently to the corner of Blinker Street and Hive. After looking carefully both ways, I turned right.

Next GPS instruction: “In 400 feet… turn right…”

At the corner I stopped, and then I turned right again.

Again I heard: “In 400 feet… turn right…”

Hmm, that’s odd, I thought. Another right turn. At the next corner I turned right.

Then: “In 400 feet… turn right…”

Something smells really weird here, I thought. I should be getting nearer to Bob’s Toilet Parts, but the GPS just took me around the block.

Unsure of what to do, I turned right.

“In 400 feet… turn right…”

This is becoming ridiculous. I thought. I hit the “Nav” button. The radio came on. I pushed the “Dest” button. The wipers started. I pushed the “Map” button. I saw a map. But I couldn’t understand it.

I turned right.

“In 400 feet… turn right…”

Whoa! I exclaimed to myself. I almost missed that last right turn! Where in the world is my destination anyway? It must be around here somewhere.

For a moment I forgot where I was going. Then I remembered I needed a new flusher lever, ballcock nut, and universal rundle number 503. Ah yes, the toilet store.

“In 400 feet… turn right…”

“Okay,” I told my car. Compliantly, I turned right.

This went on for a while. Then I realized that I was in the wrong town. I parked the car and went to a bar.

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Filed under Accidents, Communication, Education, Family, Fun, Growing old, Happy to help, Humor, Interpersonal conflicts, Life challenges, Oops, Technology, Time, Time management, Travel, Trust, You're not alone!

Weird Is the New Nice

Google images: pinterest.com

Google images: pinterest.com

My son and I dropped my wife off at the door of the grocery store, and then we parked in the lot to wait for her. Biff was sitting in the back seat.

It was a warm Saturday afternoon and my window was open. The passenger window in the car next to me was open, too, and sitting by himself in that car was a young boy of about 11 or 12. He was probably waiting for his mom.

“How are you doing?” I said unthinkingly through my window to the boy. The boy stiffened and looked straight ahead.

“DAD!” hissed my son. “What the heck are you doing?”

“Why? What’s the matter?” I said, looking at Biff’s reflection in the rearview mirror.

“You don’t DO that!”

“Do what?” I asked.

“Don’t say hi to a strange kid. Don’t you know that’s weird and creepy?”

“He doesn’t look very strange,” I replied.

“No, YOU’RE strange!” Biff whispered to me behind his cupped hand.

I sighed. “Yeah, I guess in these days you’re probably right. I was just trying to be friendly.”

“You’re going to get yourself arrested,” said Biff as he slunk down in his seat and looked away.

I rolled up my window.

After my wife was finished buying her cucumbers, she got back into the car. As we drove off, I told her what happened and asked her opinion. “I side with Biff,” she said. “You’re whacked.”

Okay. I understand. I used to be nice. Now I’m just weird.

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Filed under Accidents, adult children, Children, Communication, Education, Family, Friendship, Fun, Growing old, Happy to help, Humor, Interpersonal conflicts, Life challenges, Marriage, Oops, Parenting, Relationships, Technology, Time, Time management, Travel, Trust, You're not alone!

Exercise? Me? Really?

Google images: telegraph.co.uk

Google images: telegraph.co.uk

Okay. New year. Lose weight. It’s not that I’m obese. I prefer to describe myself as fat. Thus I bought a weight-loss program so I could exercise in the privacy of my home without exhibiting my girth in public.

I popped in the DVD. Billy Betterthanu, in leotards, introduced himself and began the routine:

“Lift your leg and put your shin on your knee. Stand up. Lift your knee. Bring it to your chest. Stretch out your leg. Shift your hips. Put your foot on the seat of your chair. Pluck your hamstrings.

“Bend the left leg you’re standing on. Rotate your knee. Now jump back. Extend your tailbone. Move your glutamate to the right. Kick backward. Kick your cat with your kneecap on.

“Hold up the wall. Drop your dead weight and touch the floor with your thigh. Pull back your quadriceps with two fingers. Drop your weight forward without hitting your face. Feel a pull. Feel a push. Feel a hernia. Release tension. Increase tension. Stand and rotate all your joints at once like marionette hanging from a ceiling fan.”

Billy was going too fast for me. I tried lifting my leg and quickly put it down again, because it hurt.

“Change legs. Change feet. Change pants. Experience upper body pain. Cry. Deny. Throw out the trash. Now tense all your muscles while staying totally relaxed. Get blood circulating into the muscles. Now stop the blood flowing in the muscles.

“Lift up your abs above your wrists. Bark like a chicken. Pull your elbows toward your eyes. Drop your arms. Gently pull one arm back. Now snap your arm like a slingshot. Dislocate your rotator cuff. Drop your arms again. Now reach down and pick up your arms.

“Inhale. Check your pulse. Give yourself mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Hit yourself in the face with your forearm. Round your back. Square your back. Triangle your back. Tuck in your ears.”

I was becoming really tired watching Billy, so I sat down and poured myself a Mountain Dew.

“Twist your nose to the side. Release the tension in your sinuses. Constrict your arches. Reach straight up. Higher. Higher. Rotate your Adam’s apple. Feel the scorch. Bend both legs around your neck and hold. One… two… three. Now do the same thing all over again while holding a pebble in your mouth.”

Billy went on and on and on. I leaned back in my recliner and fell asleep.

When the video was over I woke up and ate several donuts.

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Filed under Accidents, Communication, Education, Exercise, Family, Fun, Growing old, Happy to help, Humor, Interpersonal conflicts, Life challenges, Oops, Technology, Time management, Trust, You're not alone!