How Old Am I?

I’m at the age where I stand up and fart… where I run around looking for my glasses that are on my head while holding my phone in my hand, asking Siri to find my phone. …When I watch TV and think, “she didn’t really need to use language.”

The other day, I was trying to debate what to pack for work when I saw a jar of olives. Uncertain as to whether they were pitted or not, I ate one. To my dismay, there were pits and all I could think was, the ladies I dine with are too young for me to be spitting it into my hand every three bites. Worse than that, I opted for store brand saltines and all that I was really missing was the “hospital” sized pitcher for my juice.

My body has also informed me in other ways as to how old I am… simply when I sit to urinate. Often I look around for my great aunt Tillie only to realize… it’s my vajaj that no longer smells like sunshine and roses. Also, sometimes after I’ve gone to the bathroom first thing in the morning, minutes later I have to go again. I learned that the hard way when I was brushing my teeth just minutes after my initial sissy, when that “feeling” came upon me. I thought to myself, I just went… this can’t be more than a drop… when in fact it was! Needless to say, I go twice within a span of 15 minutes.

The only thing on my body that’s not dehydrated is my nose and all day long I’m pulling tissues from my two sizes too big bra just to stop it from running.

Now you may be stopping to pause and wonder: why not get bras that fit?… Where else would I store my airpods, house key, money and pillbox?

Lastly, I’m the age where I have zero kegel muscles and urinate in public spaces (kitchen/street) all because I thought I could wait.

#49GoingOn94

About Lady in Red

mom of 3
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