I met a woman named Maureen yesterday. Tall, thin, with a deep voice and brown hair. She had a walker but stood ramrod straight as we talked. She's 95. After a couple of minutes, she told me she had to leave. "To be frank," she said bluntly, "I have to pee."
"Then you better hurry," I replied.
She slapped the walker. "That's just the trouble. I can't."
"Then you need to plan ahead very carefully," I responded.
She moved off, guffawing.
I will look forward to talking to her again. I don't know what she used to do, but there is an air of command about her. She's a little bit scary. I think that is a great trait when you are 95.
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1 comment:
Ooooh yeah..I love those ladies ;)
Babs
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