Things they never tell you.

Every once in a while I will post something here about getting old...little things, silly things, surprising things that I wish I had known about before they happened to me, like the fart fest I had about a year or so ago.  Honestly, how come nobody told me that would happen...I was so embarrassed...but ever so grateful it happened when I was home alone so only my four legged friends and Frankie had to endure that 'smell-a-vision'.  Geeze.

Today I have another.  Twice this week I had to 'dress up'...I only do this when I know I have to meet the public, or be out in it.  I have a wardrobe full of 'special occasion' clothes.  (I'm sure we all remember my newest addition...the 'turkey suit').  So it was on Wednesday and yesterday I had social obligations and had to dress-up.  Both times, I stayed in my 'nightie' until I absolutely HAD to get dressed.  Mostly I do this because it keeps my good clothes from getting covered in pet fur before I leave the house...at least that's what I used to tell myself.

Now I have to confess.  It has nothing to do with pet fur...and everything to do with comfort.  So, how come nobody every tells you proper looking, proper fitting clothes are so dang uncomfortable.  Honest...Wednesday's dress up was hard enough, and I was able to stay 'prettified' until early evening.  But, yesterday....holy crap...my new bra and almost new panties, the ones that don't sag, have good elastic and actually hold my sagging body parts where they once used to stay on their own, were cutting me to pieces before I had the chance to finish my Olive Garden all you can eat soup and salad.

Seriously, when I left the house, I looked great, I think, although I never know for sure because I have a hard time looking at myself in the mirror.  But, what I did see last time I glanced at myself, my boobs were where they should be, and my butt was...well...at least a little firm.  I do, clean up, 'pretty good'.

I'm sure some of you are young, and probably don't look at Old People cartoons, the ones where men and women are wearing sweat suits, and other baggy attire, and in my youth I would poke fun at and giggle about them myself.  Never, ever, would I come to that state in my life where I would depend on sweat suits and other baggy attire.

Oh, my...dearie me...

Yesterday I would have given away my 'pinkie toes' to have been in my comfortable, baggy sweat suit and baggy, elastic-less bra and panties.  I would have so much more enjoyed my soup and salad. 

I could not wait to get home...first thing I was going to do was change clothes.  However, I had to fuss over the dog...let him have a potty break.  Then I had to put the leftover bread sticks in the fridge.  Then a package came...the mail...the interest in what was on TV.  Time ticked away.  My bra was killing me...I head to the bedroom, get distracted...and distracted, and distracted.

Finally, as evening was setting in I make it to the bedroom.  I remove the items that had been restraining me all afternoon...scratch and rub , scratch and rub, scratch and rub, all those places that had been punished all those hours.  It felt sooo good.

So, here's the real 'rub', how come nobody ever tells you, all those cartoons and jokes about old people are not cartoons and jokes at all.  They are true...and fashion houses should start designing clothes to accommodate our 'sagging places".  Make bras with slightly stretched elastic, panties too, when they are manufactured.  I don't need a larger size, it's the damn elastic.  My old bras, my old panties...fit great...cause the elastic has stretch out a bit. 

I know what you're thinking...well Old Woman...just wear your old underwear when you go out.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  Did your mother not teach you you never, ever, under any circumstances leave the house in old or dirty underwear...you might be in an accident.  And heaven forbid the paramedics should have to cut those off you.  Plus, imagine the embarrassment that would cause your mother, I see mine 'rolling over in her grave'.