Middle Age Isn't For Sissies

Folks, I ain't just whistling dixie...Middle Age can be tough.









First, there were the wrinkles around the eyes. These I could deal with. After all, they were kinda cute and friendly-like.









Next came the gray hair. Pretty? No. Annoying? Yes. It ages you instantly. I went from teenager to cackly old woman in the blink of an eye. And it's the reason I had to take a part-time job. Just paying to keep my roots colored every four weeks was enough to make a grown woman cry.









The mid-life divorce kicked my you-know-what. But, with God and prayer, and a special concoction of ibuprofen and benadryl I made it through.









Empty nest. Oh, this wasn't good. Lots of wailing and moaning and moping, and rocking, screaming what's my purpose? Then, the lightbulb went off. I breathlessly told Mr. Wonderful we should have a child together. I did quick math using all my fingers and toes, then grabbed the calculator. Why, he'd only be 80 when our child got married! He went catatonic on me. I figured we'd talk about it later.









But, then...




This is what I saw in the mirror. This morning.















It was my turn to go catatonic.



I knew the moment I saw "it" my dreams had been shattered. After all, no one knows for sure how a human baby raised by a turkey turns out.



I see only two options:

1. Serve myself for Thanksgiving this Fall, saving alot of money and time in the kitchen.

2. Become a Nancy Pelosi look-alike.

Hey, desperate times call for desperate measures.