My Special Guest

Today, Claudine the Mean from Coffee Time Romance is sharing a blog she posted a few weeks back on the review sites very active blog.  She participated in the Thursday Thirteen, but today she's sharing on a Tuesday because I'm preparing to leave for Southern California to see my eighty-six-year-old Mom who I haven't seen for almost four years.  It's a quick trip and I'm looking forward to a wonderful Mother's day.  Wishing all the other moms the same.

So enjoy Claudine's post and a few giggles.  See you next week.

Thirteen Signs of Aging

There’s no escape!  You can’t hide, run, or avoid it.  Eventually one or more of the following will happen to you.

• Crows Feet.  I can’t picture a bird roosting around my eyes, but all of a sudden that smooth, flawless skin around those baby blues or chocolate browns takes on the look of crepe paper.  And no matter what advertisements claim, NO ONE has invented a special potion to turn back the years, at least in those little bottles and tubes.  Maybe if they sold the product in five gallon-drums, but….

• Sock Imprints.  You know you’re getting old when you remove your socks and the pattern and indention stays on your shin for hours afterward.  Same for blanket marks from sleeping.

• Lip Lines – OMG, one of the worst signs of aging is discovering you no longer have lips.  The line that distinguishes your lips from the rest of your face just disappears. This may not happen to those of you blessed with full bow-shaped ones, but for those of us who had thin lips to begin with, our mouth suddenly becomes a slit in our face..  This makes the idea of a facelift totally impossible, unless of course you want to resemble a snake.

• Pleat lines.  Yes, there will come a time, even if you have beautiful lips, the area between your nose and top lip will look as though someone fan-pleated your skin.  Prepare yourself; it’s not a pretty sight.

• The Chinese Shar-Pei look.  One morning you’ll wake up, go to brush your teeth and stare with wide-eyed wonder in the mirror, asking what in the hell happened to whatever it was that held up the skin on your neck. Don’t be surprised if you now hate Thanksgiving because of the stark reminder of the turkey’s waddle (that’s what it’s called) hanging under your chin.  Short of gathering the looseness into a huge clippie at the nape of your neck, there is no inexpensive, painless or immediate cure.

• Turning silver. Not a problem, you think?  You’ll just grab a bottle of dye and cover up those strands.  I have bad news for you…I’m not talking about the hair on the top of your head.  Yep…your hoo-ha falls victim to gray hair too, at least until it starts to fall out.  Male pattern baldness doesn’t only happen to men.

• Sagging Boobs.  Yep, if you are bigger than an A cup, then get ready for the downhill slide.  I went from wearing a 38D to a 40 Long in the blink of an eye.  Once it happens to you, the only time you’ll have cleavage is if you stand on your head.  Oh, and never bend over and look into a mirror.  You’ll never again consider being on top when you have sex.  If you still have sex.  There’s something about having to lift your arm so your husband can find your breast that kinda kills your sex drive.

• Tube Top. And I don’t mean the type your wear.  I’m referring to nature’s shelf that materializes around your midsection.  I wonder if that’s the stuff that held up my neck skin at one time.  Either that or it’s timely appearance is meant to offer a safe haven for my boobs to rest on.

• Loss of Eyelashes. – Take lots of pictures of those sexy, smoky eyes because eventually you’ll mourn the gaps in your once lush lashes. The mascara that used to highlight one of your best assets, now clumps and draws attention to the holes where lashes used to be.

• Facial Hair. I suppose you could look at this in a positive light…your missing lashes aren’t totally lost.  They’ve simply found a new home sprouting on your chin and your upper lip. Always have handy a pair of tweezers unless you want to rival your husband’s mustache or beard.  Another positive note…the hair under your arms and on your legs doesn’t grow back quite as fast as it used to.  Everything slows down…especially your digestion.  Can you say ‘a-c-i-d   r-e-f-l-u-x, but I got totally off topic and I apologize.  See number 13 for my explanation.

• Leg Cramps. I see it written that senior citizens remain sexually active well into their eighties and nineties.  I’m wondering if this report is based on the moaning and groaning overheard outside bedroom doors.  Trust me…there is NO chance at all that you can contort your body as you once did.  Leg cramps really kill the moment, but you do moan and groan.

• Creaking Joints. WD-40 works on creaks and squeaks around the house… on everything but your aging joints.  Knees and hips develop a melody all their own that play every time you rise from your chair.  If you’re lucky like me, your husband won’t notice because he never wears his hearing aids.

• Loss of Memory. The worst of all for me!  If you find yourself wandering the house looking for something but not remembering what, don’t panic.  It’s just the first little hint that your memory is leaving with your eyelashes and lip line.  If you go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and come back with a sandwich, don’t be surprised.  Or if you go in the bathroom to fetch a tissue and put on deodorant, it wasn’t a totally wasted trip.  Sadly, there will come a day when what your mother did makes perfect sense to you.  I just had that AHA moment this week.  I always kidded Mom about tying a red ribbon on her car’s radio antenna, but as I wandered through Wal-mart’s parking lot yesterday with my grandson in tow because I couldn’t find my car, I got it.  I made a panicked discovery though…if you are close enough to your car, the emergency button on your remote will allow you to follow the constant beeping of your horn to where you’ve parked.  I meant to mention that to my husband, but I forgot.

There are many other things I could list, but there’s no use sending you into panic mode.  Some things take time, and others  happen overnight.  I think our creator got it backwards…we should start old and turn young.  I think it might be easier to handle every tomorrow if we knew eventually our fat thighs would be considered cute.

Note:  Thanks to JoyFeldman.com for letting me blogjack the image above.