In one hour and 45 minutes, give or take, I am going to be in Fort Wayne with the “one whose leg is in a cast.” Right now I am on the sofa wearing underwear and a long San Diego shirt. Last evening Summer ventured that she would like to do the same, but didn’t want to look like “old people.”
Sigh. I keep telling her to think things through. Does she really want to toy around with such taunting. She thinks old people can’t run as fast as she and she is probably right – can’t chase her upstairs and all that. Heh, heh, I have different methods.
Ah, but that is for later revenge and sadistic retaliation . . .
Right now I have to get some clothes on and get The Leg” to the clinic.
My father would have promptly reminded one not so wise that “Old People” are the ones who put food in your mouth, clothes on your back, and the roof over your head. Then he would have swiftly delivered a boot to the butt and asked will one do? or would you like seconds?