Day 14: Geriatric vs. Gentleman's Club

So, yesterday was rough wasn't it guys? Can you believe how all of us had that mental breakdown?

Oh wait, was that just me??

Well, we are due for some jokes about old people are we not?  I am totally kidding, but not really because this is going to get playfully offensive.

For Day 14, I spent the day with some friends (named Erica and Erika respectively) and we made homemade applesauce to share with others. The Eric/kas and I peeled, chopped and simmered until we had enough cinnamony mush to feed any and all people who have outlived their teeth.

We had grand plans of delivering the applesauce, still warm, to a nursing home where we would have the children hand out homemade cards and people would spring up, miraculously, out of their wheelchairs and would twirl and celebrate like school children.

So many things that I just wrote did not happen. Including all of it. Well, the applesauce was warm at one point, but other than that... none of our plans came together. It's probably all for the best because can you imagine how disgusting it would be to see people twirling in those loose, flowing gowns with the back just open and flapping in the breeze?  Just not seeing anyone's ancient buns makes me consider Day 14 a moderate success.

Still, we had a lot of applesauce on hand. and we were not going to let this cutie's hard work peeling apples go to waste!



So, Erika got in touch with a woman in the neighborhood who has lived in Rochester since colonial times. This woman, Marian, is 91 years old, lives alone and is blind. I don't know what a P.C. term for "shut-in" is, but she's a (insert less offensive term.)

Or so we thought...

We brought our children (twelve of them between the three of us) to meet the first woman God ever created.  And let me tell you, ain't nothing shut in about Miss Marian. This old whippersnapper gave the children quite the  inappropriate  education.  I knew it was gonna get crazy when she opened with the fact that ladies are more likely to get urinary tract infections than men.  This tidbit was followed by the history of shootings in the area, as well as the rise and fall of a "night club" which she suspected was a "front for some other operation."  When Marian and her outraged squad of neighborhood watchwomen tried to crack the case, the "good looking black man" who owned the  Gentleman's  night club assured them that the only thing that people were doing behind the smoke and mirrors was exercise.  Well sir, you can't push that kinda crap past Miss Marian, no matter how fine she thinks you are. Marian and the gang had him run outta town quicker than you can say "they used to leave the urine samples in the milk drop box."

No, seriously, she actually said all of this. In front of the children.

So, as you can see, lives have been changed.  Our children will never be the same.

I dedicate this post to Tom, because I will probably end up being an old, inappropriate whippersnapper myself someday. I'm already feeling bad about your future.
Happy Almost Anniversary...