As already mentioned in a previous post, getting older has its advantages. But I’ve also realized that I now have to deal with a few things that I would never ever have imagined…
Like the other night I was doing a check up on my breasts. Lying flat on my back, one arm behind my back, the other feeling around for something suspicious. Oh crap, I thought, feeling a lump in my armpit. In a bit of a panic I felt again, and gave it a little squeeze. The lump got harder. On closer inspection I realized it was in fact my nipple.
Even though there’s perks to ageing gracefully, these do not include perky boobs. Recently I was listening in on a rather macabre conversation about suicide and the most effective ways to do it. One person said that if you take a gun, place it under your breast and pull the trigger, you’d be dead instantly. In my case if I were to place a gun under my breast and pull the trigger I’d shoot my knee. Surely that’s not going to kill me, but rather leave me maimed.
Something else I never thought I would have is a nipple piercing. I do. Or nearly did. By accident. I went to the local tattoo parlour where they pierce weird and wonderful places and asked for a belly ring. I lifted up my shirt in front of the tattoo artist and waited for the worst. As he started rubbing the area with cotton wool and disinfectant I felt a rather strange stirring in my loins. “Hang on”, I thought, “I don’t get turned on when Mark touches my belly button.” Thank goodness I looked down because he was about to pierce my nipple, which at this point of my life, is in line with my navel.
Before it happens to you, let me inform you that greying is not limited to the hair on your head. The other night I was lying in the bath, in a rare relaxing moment and found a grey hair you-know-where. THE HORROR OF HORRORS…I thought about shaving the area but decided against it. You see it’s starting to wrinkle (like the rest of me) and I would hate for Mark to mistake it for a sharpei. I’d rather colour it. Just a quick DIY job at home. So off I went to the pharmacy and bought a ‘box colour’. At last I know why they call it that.
Other notable things that happen as you get wiser…swinging Emma around leaves me feeling like I did 20 years ago after a drinking binge. Young men that I might have casually shagged a few years back now refer to me as ‘ma’am’. I find I sometimes hum along to elevator music and I no longer see speed limits as a challenge. I’m less stressed about the money I owe on my credit card because I reckon there won’t be much time left to pay it off. My broad mind and narrow waist have swapped places and I no longer scoff at people watching the weather channel.
I feel uncomfortable using words and phrases like “411”, “off the chain”, “crunk” and “hit me up” but comfortably throw in “let’s get the party started”, “whatchu talking about Willis?”, “cowabunga dude!” and “by the power of Greyskull!”
As I age, so too do my friends. We’re all at a die-able age and I find that funerals and memorials form part of my social calendar, when just a few years back it was 21st parties, engagements and weddings.
Age might be nothing but a number, but so is 666!