It's almost Thanksgiving, and...as we age.......

We find there is much to be thankful for.

Pillboxes, so we know what day it is.

Calendars, so we remember what month it is, especially this month so we can remember to be thankful.  

That we're entitled to be cranky, drive 5 mph under the speed limit, and buy 14 different kinds of scratch off tickets at noon at QuikTrip.

So much, like........

Silent farts.

Friends with the considerate chutzpah to tellya, "Buddy you need to trim your nose hair."

When you use your fork to stir around Aunt Clara's vegetable concoction, convincing folks you tried it.

When you hit a golf ball, you think it's in the woods, but a buddy finds a ball in play, next to a tree, and asks "Is this your ball?" insteada "What kind were you playing?"

Walking out of the laundromat with an even number of socks.  Also, finding you remembered this being the 11th month, (an odd month) so you washed your hanky (whether it needed it or not) because it's an odd month.

Old friends.

Older friends.

A pee pee dance that doesn't end before you get there. 

That God gave us wonderful hearing, so we have the ability to hear every damn thing 20, 30 and 40 year olds say when they talk about us because they think we can't hear.

That once-a-month "OH BABY OH BABY OH BABY" feeling. Prevert.  I'm talking Social Security Direct Deposit here.

That look on the face of your grandchild when you tell them to '"hang up the phone, (huh?) because I've got good news, I'm springing for Pizza... so, go get the phone book, get Pizza Hut's number and dial them up."

When we retire at night in the right bed at Golden Acres.

When we retire at night in the wrong bed at Golden Acres.

Picking up Grandchildren.

Dropping off Grandchildren.

Sending your grandchild (via Amazon) a toy that needs to be assembled and has over 100 pieces.

Remembering the Fixodent before you blow out the candles.

Remembering your checkbook and writing that $3.22 check in the '10 item or less line' at the Piggly Wiggly the night before an impending blizzard.

You forget something at the Piggly Wiggly.  You go back, get it.  Total is $1.67, you know you've got that much cash, so, you grab a dollar, then you check your purse, your three coat pockets, your four pant pockets because you know how happy everyone is when you pay the exact change. (You recognize Sarah, the checker and an old neighbor of yours, so you tell her about your grandson's upcoming graduation in Pocotello, Idaho and his plans on what he will do after high school., and, the names and ages of his six siblings. After you pay.) Life is wonderful, everyone is thankful when you are pleasant.

Being old allows us to not care much about what others think.  Having fun.  

Like, gone, not forgotten.

Like, driving down the road, coming to the stoplight, there's a hound pooch in the lane next to you enjoying the fresh air so you simply wanna see how he will react when you tell him "Go get your ball!"..... 

or, being in line behind a sagger and saying under your breath (but loud enough sagger mebbe might hear) "look,...... skid marks."... 

or, remarking to the youth adorned with a two nostril ring, "I'm a huge fisherman, is that a #4 or a #6 treble hook?" (It's genuine curiosity, not shaming!)

Hey, before you get sideways with me, I just came off an article that says, if we are over 40, we can't use ANY of these slang terms:   YOLO...  Cray-cray...  Oh, snap!...  Hanrgy..   Talk to the hand...  Savage...  Karen...  Fam...   Bruh...  I can't even...  Hashtag..   OMG... 

Appreciate it....

So.....

Just about the time they ask to discuss your will, tell 'em you're gonna think on that, for now you and granny are gonna go Netflix and chill.

iyay ovelay eingbay oldyay , ankfulthay orfay osay uchmay . igday ? 

Love, Victurd