Dear Old People,
Please stop talking to me about your innards.
I'm delighted to discuss anything else with you. The weather fifty times, last night's Wheel of Fortune, your child rearing philosophy (again), your neighbors, your general health.
You heard me. I'm glad to hear about your health, even the achy bits. As long as it's on the outside of your body and nothing that would make me blush. Sciatica? Bring it on. Arthur-itis? Lay it on me. Macular degeneration? Hit me, baby, one more time.
But I swear, if I hear one more thing about your "prostrate", intestinal function, liver issues, or anthing involving other squishy interal organs, I'm not hanging out with you anymore, even if it means giving up those really cool World War II stories. Oh, and I'll boycott you if it's an outside part but involves any type of fungus, gangrene, or gout.
I adore you, old people. Your stories, your wit, your fortitude. But not so much your horrifyingly detailed rundowns of anything that happens inside the neck-to-knee boundary lines. Can we please stick to the hilarious rants about kids these days and your endless stream of advice? Because I love those. I know most people don't, but I totally dig it. I learn a lot. It's why I hang out with you guys.
But the potty talk has got to stop.
Love,
Melanie
P.S. I don't know where the never-ending hard candy supply comes from, and I love it, but I'd still come visit you even without it.
*I seriously do love me some old folks, so nobody better light up my comment trail.
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21 comments:
I guess I better not write that post about my gallbladder surgery any time soon— I may lose you forever.
All the same… I agree with you— especially when you're eating breakfast or something and don't want to lose your lunch before you even had it.
I love the irony of this post. Considering your last 5 posts were all about potty talk! Ha!
But I completely understand. Slightly different.
I always have to tell my husband about every one of my health challenges no matter what part of the body it concerns, even though I wish I wouldn't; I just can't help myself. I've never been able to settle on a suitable euphemism for diarrhea so I sometimes end up using the actual word and then I always regret it. Not that there's any euphemism that would make it an agreeable topic.
Eh, I'm good with it all. Except the really gooey kisses. Oh and the weight comments.
When I ranted about the old people in the grocery, no one came to beat me up. I was so pleasantly surprised. And yes, why are all conversations about their regularity?
LOL at the potty talk...cute post! and WHERE does all that hard candy from?
You lightweight! Buck up and listen to the potty talk - it'll be good for your innards.
I was about to point out what Kristina did. :D
So what, you don't want to know that old Mr. Jones has to go pee three times a night because of his enlarged prostate? Whatever. :D
Zina, Gastrointestinal Distress. Often shortened to GID at our house.
Melanie, I will be sure never to introduce you to my mother-in-law.
You're mean to old people.
Kidding.
I love how much you love them. I do too.
Is it possible that your bathroom posts had something to do with too much time with old people? :)
ha ha ha ha ha ha. How perfectly funny. You so just nailed my ILs. Amen, girl.
We have this surgeon friend who comes to lunch and tells all these disgusting surgery stories while I'm trying to eat. EW! I just want to poke him in the eye.
Wow, guess I better keep my fibroid surgery to myself. Darn. :)
This was funny to read because when I got to the gym today, ALL my favorite machines where taken by people with white hair.
And as I was leaving, someone gave me a piece of hard candy. :)
I, too, wonder where all the hard candy comes from and I never want it to stop.
LOL I work with special ed kids and they too like to talk about bodily things. Funny!
Hee hee...next time my time of month rolls along I'll refrain from commenting about how much my Uterus hurts...
Where are you finding all these old people? The ones I want to hang out with are dead.
yeah I'll pass on innard stories too
Melanie, you must have one of those "faces" with an invisible sign on your forehead that says, "Hey PEOPLE! (Yeah, you old ones especially) People with frontal lobe syndrome! SPILL YOUR GUTS!"
It must be blinking.
Better change that invisible sign.
Oh that was hilarious!!! I LOVE IT!!! I completely agree!!!
Jessica
I love me some old people too! LOVED this post.
Blessings, Carolynn
I had a guy -on a date- tell me about the colon disease that he acquired from parasites on his mission and how he once had a job that required carrying material that could cause infertility. TMI? (Now I sound like your favorite I can "beat that" friend.) =] But I don't own a yoga studio. And my mother doesn't breed dogs. Does that help?
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