So...

Frankie and I are sitting on the patio, I'm almost done with my philosophical book while Frankie is reading some sort of 'Girly' magazine. She harrumphs to get my attention.

I look up from my book as she is pulling her glasses down to the tip of her nose. My mind immediate gets that "Warning, warning Will Robinson" signal because I have no idea what's coming next.

Frankie: "So," she asks, "What would it take to make you 'date-able'?"
Me:  "To be forty years younger I guess and maybe a new wardrobe, perhaps millions of dollars."

Frankie is laughing so hard she rolls out of her patio chair onto the indoor/outdoor carpeting.  When she finally catches her breath she says, "Well, I didn't expect that for an answer."

Me:  "Why not?"
Frankie: Well, the survey says things that make a woman 'date-able' are things like being demure, kind, and use good English, avoiding slang. Apparently it's also important to be a good listener.  You should have interesting hobbies, be up on current events, and also be physically active; belonging to a fitness center is a big plus."

I'm mortified, I had no idea what the dumb survey wanted as answers. I think I possess most of those qualities...well...except for the belonging to a fitness center stuff.  Still, My answers were true. Especially the part about having millions of dollars...what guy wouldn't date a board 'er broad no matter how old she was if she had millions in the bank.

Frankie:  "You want to re-think your answers?"
Me:  "No."
Frankie:  "Could you 'splain"?

Me:  "First I don't feel I need to defend myself because I spoke the truth. If I DID want to be 'date-able' I WOULD need a whole new wardrobe as mine consists mostly of sweats, slacks, sweaters and long sleeve tops. (No guy wants to look at Old Woman's arm wobble.)  And, if I did have millions of dollars in the bank do you really think I would spend them on a man...I think not.

Frankie opens her mouth to speak...

Me:  (Holding up a finger for silence.)  "Buppp, buppp, buppp. I would however be spending my millions on myself and family, oh, and of course you, Muse, CC and Zorro.  I might even have a Lear Jet ready to lease on a moment's notice to carry myself and others on long weekend jaunts hither and yon if wanting to go hither and yon was what we wanted to do.  And, as for going back forty years in my life.  I don't think so.  My life's been pretty darn good and I see no need for a 'do over'.

Frankie remains unusually silent.

Me:  "Besides Frankie, if I went back forty years there would be no you, there would be no Muse, there would be no us."

Frankie was suddenly eager to close the magazine and change the topic of conversation.  "So what's for dinner?"

I swear I saw her wipe a tear from her eye.