Getting up in the morning is a pain in the butt. Reach over and nearly tip forward tripping over myself to pick up the darn old house robe that fell off the bed through the night. Standing up trying to put house robe on but have an itch I have to scratch first. Why is it the first thing in the morning a body has to pass gas and scratch?
Looking at myself in the full length mirror is enough to make me want to lean over the ship as I fill light-headed from seeing the uneven wrinkles. As quickly as I can I put my covering on and leaning one hand on the bed and the other on the dresser I do the circus balancing act getting those darn old stretched out slippers on.
I waddle into the bathroom and my eyes bug out of my head as I flip the light on and see how my eye lids have drooped half way over the color of my eyes. I raise my house coat and sit down. I have to make sure I do this each and every morning as I learned the hard lesson once before.
I had gotten up from the pot and thought someone had pasted ice-cubes to my naked butt. I jumped without my feet leaving the ground and reached my arm behind me to see what in the world had a hold of me. You would not believe it! It was the end of my house coat. It had taken a dip in the water as I was doing my thing. I sharpened up real quick after this.
I got one of my better wash rags that only had three holes in it and I wet it with the coldest water I could. After my fingers turned bright red I knew the temperature was ready. I slapped it onto my face where it freeze-dried all my wrinkles and made my eye lids fly up like an old-fashioned window blind.
I left it there while I counted to sixty. One, two, five, ten, fifteen, 60. I toss it in the stool water by accident. I seriously meant to hit the target of the tub, but dang it, I missed. I reached down in there and pulled it out by my two fingers and whooshed it like a basket ball shot straight in the trash can. There wasn’t any way I was ever gonna use that rag on my face. Never going to wash my face with pee water.
I wet my tooth-brush and then dipped it in some alcohol. You know it’s the quickest way to get the body moving in the mornings. I tried pushing that darn blue stuff out of the tube, but I guess I haven’t got my groove on yet. I had to set it down on the bathroom sink and use my fingers on one hand while holding the brush with my other. Oops, I think I surprised myself at the strength I still have at my age. Toothpaste came squirting out and went all over the mirror.
If you ask me I think I could sell this for quite a few dollars as it would be known as modern art. I took my finger and wiped some off the mirror and then rubbed it on to the bristles. Now down to business. Brush brush brush. Up and down in and out. Wow, I better be careful with what I am saying. Sounds kind of perverted to me.
Done with the brush I rinse it off and stick it back in the tiny hole it goes in and fill my glass half way with water. Rinse gargle, oh yuck, I just swallowed a bunch of water and I wasn’t ready. Gag, choke, eyes watering. Beating myself on the chest I get my choking under control.
I pull out my hair brush. Now you have to be real careful how you use this special brush. It belonged to my grandma and it is missing a few bristles. One time I was brushing my hair and sort of wiggling back and forth to the radio and didn’t realize that I was forming Edward Scissorhand marks on my forehead. Don’t ever say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. I am here to tell you that you can. Don’t push too hard, and don’t get too close to the hair-line.
Now I am all done in the bathroom. I tie my belt around my house coat a little tighter. You have to do this because there are a bunch of perverts creeping around our neighborhood all the time. They are just dying to get a chance to take a quick peek at us cougar women.
The sun is shining, and I can see the boy mowing the neighbor’s yard. Everyone uses this kid for mowing. We pay him a couple of bucks and he grins as he leaves with his money. I swear one time I saw him flip me off when he turned around to leave. Do you think I should maybe up his pay to three dollars?
I flip the television on and turn the sound up to the number eight out of ten. I turn it on to the local news so I can get a good look at that sexy weather man. I make my way out to the kitchen and start my percolator..
A few scratches to the head and a few more to the other spots and then I look out my window and sigh. I have made it another morning. I tinkled and wiped. I brushed my hair and my teeth. The coffee is perking. Now on to the breakfast meal.
- Why I Have More Hair in My Brush Than on My Head (womenshealth.answers.com)
- Wild Hairs, Aging and Elmer’s Glue (wittytackyorbrilliant.com)
- Oh, The Humanity! (parkermonroe.wordpress.com)
- Warning – Beware Of Older Bikini Swimsuits (thebikinipolice.com)
- 10 Essentials for Caring for an Elderly Person’s Hair (luxcarelifestyle.wordpress.com)