Sometimes I wonder what I may have done in order to have the cosmos sit back and laugh at me the way they do at times. Let me share with you so that you will truly understand just how..
As I stated in a previous post, my dear little Oldilocks has found herself a gentleman friend. And while this means that she is far more entertained and less bored and despondent than she previously was, it also means that I am constantly putting out these little fires every time I go to visit. Such as trying to convince one rather dirty old man (**hereafter known as DOM) that while she is more than interested in spending time with him and being his companion, she is not interested in *ahem* relations of that variety as she is not available to marry him--and without doing so, the other is just an impossibility.
After all, she is a lady--and ladies just do not. Especially thrice married and widowed ladies of the archaic variety.
Monday saw me forced to sit down with both of them and try and explain this to him, as Oldilocks was in a terrible state of misery about his advances since we had last spoken. It turns out that **DOM is of the fast-fingered groping variety, regardless of time and place. Picture, if you will (although trust me, it is kinda painful to picture, let alone witness), him giving the Oldilocks the drive-by grope as she shuffles by his lunch table on the way to her own. Suffice it to say that she was mortified. And she cannot really move fast enough to out wile him, walker-bound that she is. So, it fell to me to try and make her wishes known, as she is somewhat tongue-tied after her strokes and DOM just cannot seem to understand what NO means.
Well, imagine my discomfort when DOM looked me in the eye (as well as he is able to through his cataracts) and informed me that while he could understand what I was saying, he was a man, with certain needs, and that if he and Oldilocks chose to act upon impulse; who was I to dictate otherwise? I informed him that Oldilocks did not wish to take it any further than companionship and the occasional hand-pat and kiss on the cheek and he got a little indignant, informing me that he had no intention to just attack her--after all, they call it a love affair, not a hate affair.
All well and good, right? So says you--but put yourself in MY shoes, when his entire spiel was accompanied by the loudest, longest most vile passing of gas that he was seemingly unaware of.
How the hell was I to keep a straight face and not insult the man??
I am not entirely convinced that that ploy wasn't number one in his arsenal of dealing with being shot down.
Or would that be SHAT down?
My mother claims it is good practice for when they are aged and doddering and I am forced to take care of them.
To this I say nay, it'll be antifreeze kool-aid for the pair of them.
Welcome to my life. Oy Vey!
As I stated in a previous post, my dear little Oldilocks has found herself a gentleman friend. And while this means that she is far more entertained and less bored and despondent than she previously was, it also means that I am constantly putting out these little fires every time I go to visit. Such as trying to convince one rather dirty old man (**hereafter known as DOM) that while she is more than interested in spending time with him and being his companion, she is not interested in *ahem* relations of that variety as she is not available to marry him--and without doing so, the other is just an impossibility.
After all, she is a lady--and ladies just do not. Especially thrice married and widowed ladies of the archaic variety.
Monday saw me forced to sit down with both of them and try and explain this to him, as Oldilocks was in a terrible state of misery about his advances since we had last spoken. It turns out that **DOM is of the fast-fingered groping variety, regardless of time and place. Picture, if you will (although trust me, it is kinda painful to picture, let alone witness), him giving the Oldilocks the drive-by grope as she shuffles by his lunch table on the way to her own. Suffice it to say that she was mortified. And she cannot really move fast enough to out wile him, walker-bound that she is. So, it fell to me to try and make her wishes known, as she is somewhat tongue-tied after her strokes and DOM just cannot seem to understand what NO means.
Well, imagine my discomfort when DOM looked me in the eye (as well as he is able to through his cataracts) and informed me that while he could understand what I was saying, he was a man, with certain needs, and that if he and Oldilocks chose to act upon impulse; who was I to dictate otherwise? I informed him that Oldilocks did not wish to take it any further than companionship and the occasional hand-pat and kiss on the cheek and he got a little indignant, informing me that he had no intention to just attack her--after all, they call it a love affair, not a hate affair.
All well and good, right? So says you--but put yourself in MY shoes, when his entire spiel was accompanied by the loudest, longest most vile passing of gas that he was seemingly unaware of.
How the hell was I to keep a straight face and not insult the man??
I am not entirely convinced that that ploy wasn't number one in his arsenal of dealing with being shot down.
Or would that be SHAT down?
My mother claims it is good practice for when they are aged and doddering and I am forced to take care of them.
To this I say nay, it'll be antifreeze kool-aid for the pair of them.
Welcome to my life. Oy Vey!
1 Comments:
Your life is anything but boring... I can just picture the sight of the 3 of you talking together....funnneee! (I personnally would relish the groping part in my life, Where is your Uncle Doug darn it!!)
Love ya!
Auntie Lynne
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