Bunions, corns, calluses. Oh my! The podiatrist is on our speed dial. When did that happen? I guess we put a lot of mileage on our sweet feet. And bending over to clip toenails is an Olympic event for an oldster. “We have a winner. The old bag clipped all 10 toenails without passing gas or spraining her back.”
Kick stilettos to the curb. Go with sneakers or orthopedic shoes—decorated with defunct hearing aid batteries. Spray walkers and canes in neon yellow for that special night on the town.
And don’t hurry me along in the grocery store isle. Hobble a mile in my slippers, before you shout, “Beep!” Millennial's inflame my hemorrhoids.
Until we chat again, this old bag declares, “Aging is for cheese and wine—not women.”