Wednesday, March 16, 2011

I'm middle-age crazy

I'm celebrating my birthday next week. All I can say is middle age is when you think you still look good in a mini-skirt because your eyes don't work well enough to see that you don't.

Middle age is when your hour-glass figure starts resembling a Mason jar.

Middle age is when you trade in beauty sleep for mediocre looking sleep.

When my husband reached middle age, he decided to become a cowboy. He had a lot to learn. Boy, was he surprised to find out the calf scramble didn't come with grits.

My husband was a terrible cowboy. He thought spurs were extensions of the interstate highway.

My husband failed as a cowboy. When he was told it was time for the roundup, he said he'd rather round down.

I can understand why my husband was a lousy cowboy. His idea of roaming the range was to figure out which knob controlled the back burner.

I was a cowgirl for a week. It was fun. I particularly liked my six-shooters: Harry, Larry, Gary, Barry, Jerry and Bob.

I just got back from a cruise. The first night I was onboard the ship, the captain issued gale warnings. He was serious because Gale was evil if she wasn't first in the buffet line.

I got home just in time to see Mommy kissing Santa Claus underneath the mistletoe last night. That confused me because last night was March 15.

1 comment:

  1. so glad the cowboy phase is over, whew that can be disastrous, especially for the horse. Poor guy running in circles not knowing which way to go... such a shame, now we have to put him down, I think he inhaled too much helium....

    Mommy kissing santa Claus, wait today is April 4th and we had Snow, Sleet, Rain and thunder and lightening all night what friggin month is this again?? shoot now I'm confused...