will make them carry a “Complaint Journal.” I am thinking if they have to document how much they complain by “complaint” and “time” it may be an eye opening experience for them.
Ten years ago my butt didn’t need pockets but this new, old butt needs pockets to break up the junk in my trunk. Confuse them is what I always say, use ruching, scarfs, a cardigan, a blazer, blinking light on my forehead. Not not really a blinking light but if I can’t get this tube top you wear around your waist to take off as the “next thing” or a “belly warmer” as I call it, I may start wearing an orange traffic cone as a hat.
I could make a tiered red velvet cake at his age, alone. I remember my mom handing me the keys to her Mazda when I was eleven and her saying, “Go get some bread and milk.” And I did. Doesn’t mean that it was right, but I could do it. He genuinely could not get his shoes laced up. He was mad and he was mad at me for not doing it for him.
What are you looking for when you come by to see me?
Back then you didn’t go and buy boobies like today. You either had them or you didn’t. You either had them because you were on the heavier side and since boobies are, well, fat or you sold your soul to the devil because your a size 2 jeans with a size D cup. These were some mean skinny girls with some giant knockers.