A few days ago, I was seated in a beach chair near a boardwalk. Within a few minutes, I heard voices of three senior-ladies who were standing atop the boardwalk-stairs. Their conversation was rather loud and centered on the topic of 'Depends' and various types of protective panty-liners. I coughed and cleared my throat in an attempt to be heard and seen by the 'leaky-gals.' Interesting notation here: I've noticed that seniors become as young children...they are open, unabridged and care less about being embarrassed.
One lady's frustration seemed to be the disappearance of any 'warning' sensations while another gal complained that recently when she believes she's finished using the facility she only exits the restroom to begin 'dribbling.' At the moment, I thought this could be two men talking except men dare not share such physical dysfunctional issues. Actually, that is not 100% accurate because several years ago I was guest eating lunch at a Country Club and I heard four older guys, playing poker at a nearby table talk about erectile dysfunction pills. (I can't make this stuff up.) Anyway, two guys swapped out pills with one another. I suppose at a later card game they will share their 'research findings.'
Back to the three gals on the boardwalk. The third gal weighed in with seemingly greater experience. Appears as though she has had a weak bladder all her life. She shared that once as a high school cheer leader, she did the splits and wet the floor considerably. She told her friends that at the next week's game she noticed the spot of her accident had compromised the floor-finish. Fearing, I would laugh aloud, I quietly lifted my chair from the sand and moved down the beach. Shortly, my wife, who had been visiting at Panera's with a Decatur church friend joined me with her Beach chair. As she sat down she spoke, "If the sun 'stays open,' I might get a tan." With that comment, I nearly wet my pants.
(Touch)
Gotta Go...You Gotta Go
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