Jun 08
To Long Life! Posted by Kittino

The Kind Old Lady

All women should live so long as to be this kind of old lady!

Toward the end of Sunday service, the Minister asked, “How many of you have forgiven your enemies?”

80% held up their hands.

The Minister then repeated his question.

All responded this time, except one small elderly lady.

“Mrs. Neely? Are you not willing to forgive your enemies?”

“I don’t have any,” she replied, smiling sweetly.

“Mrs. Neely, that is very unusual. How old are you?”

“Ninety-eight,” she replied.

“Oh, Mrs Neely, would you please come down in front and tell us all how a person can live ninety-eight years and not have an enemy in the world?”

The little sweetheart of a lady tottered down the aisle, faced the congregation, and said:

“I’ve outlived all the bitches!”

Several years ago, Rowland and I were out on a first post-baby date. I was still carrying some post-baby weight and wasn’t feeling very attractive. While Rowland was finishing up in a store, I went ahead of him to get into the truck, a huge Ford F-250. As I was climbing in, I noticed several men walking past who were obviously checking me out. I thought to myself, “Well, I must not look that bad! They think I’m cute.” About that time, I heard one of the men say, “Damn! What a gorgeous truck!”

Fast forward to yesterday at the hardware store. Rowland was waiting for some paint to be mixed, and I was back in the plumbing department looking for an ice maker kit. Once again, I was feeling a little blah since most of my makeup was gone, and I was running around in sweats. I kept noticing this man looking at me. Feeling uncomfortable, I tried to avoid the aisle he would be looking on, but I just kept bumping into him. I also kept thinking, “Why would this man be checking me out like that? I look like crap!” Finally, we ended up side by side on an aisle and happened to look at each other at exactly the same time. Embarrassed, I started to look away when he said, “Those glasses look great on you!” Me, outloud: “Thank you.” Me, to myself, “What are you, a freakin’ optometrist?”