I read a post on People I Want To Punch in the Throat about how ‘You might be a Suburban Mom if…’ I hope Our Enemies (you know who you are) never read her article.
If what she says in her post is true, we’re doomed as a society.
Our Enemies (did you figure out who you were, yet?) will find out we’re a bunch of lazy, wine guzzling, shopaholic gym rats who only wear yoga pants.
Yoga pants are seriously underrated; I wore mine every day for three years when I was a substitute teacher.
If I went to a different school every day, they never knew I’d worn them the day before. If I went to the same school, all I had to do was change my top. (Yes, I washed them each night. A perk of well-made yoga pants. They’ll take a beating, and still look good.)
Saved me big money on business attire.
And who are business fashionistas to lecture? I was around kids all day long. Kids wear the same black tee shirt and grungy jeans every single day.
They would have asked to borrow money if they saw me in different clothes.
I made approximately $12 an hour as a substitute, pay that even seventh-graders consider slave wages. I’m doing slightly better now that I’m retired, but don’t tell them that. They’ll still want to borrow money.
Anyway, Our Enemies-the ones who know how to read- will find out we won’t like wearing army fatigues when WW III breaks out and America needs every able-bodied adult.
(If you’ve been taking yoga classes to go with those yoga pants, you’re an able-bodied adult.)
I’m going to contact the head of the Army (is that the president, or some general?) and suggest that they clothe soldiers in yoga pants. Khaki yoga pants.
Baggy army fatigues only look good on Sylvester Stallone and those mouth-watering WWII soldiers that were captured in Life magazine pictures, looking all unshaven and manly. Olive green just doesn’t go with most complexions.
If you still want to enlist, consult with your colorist first.
I got jealous of this Suburban Mom post, which is reminiscent of ‘You might be a redneck if..’. It started me thinking, which I indulged in between naps, about how ‘You might be retired if…’
I discounted the obvious signs of retirement, such as collecting Social Security, not working and sleeping in as long as you want; being up-to-date on the Kardashians and Dancing With the Stars, and posting regularly on Facebook.
Herewith, following in the Suburban Mom’s footsteps, is the Retro Retiree:
You might be retired if a nap is the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning.
We never get enough sleep, a state that is reminiscent of when our kids were young. When the kids were growing up, a nap was foremost on our minds.
When you’re retired, and have awakened during the night approximately fifteen thousand times to go to the bathroom, a nap is foremost on your mind.
You might be retired if complete strangers think you should be a full-time, unpaid volunteer.
When you were actively parenting, schools wanted you to volunteer to show your ‘community spirit’ or because you were supposed to be ‘looking out for your kids’ future’.
A complete stranger at the pool struck up a conversation with me and said I should volunteer like she does. This is why I don’t talk to people.
She assumed I’d be interested because I happened to be at the pool when she was, so I must not be gainfully employed. (I’m not, but she didn’t know that.) She works at some organization five hours a day, five days a week. If I did that, I’d better be getting a paycheck. I only volunteer if I get paid for it.
Before you judge me, you should know I volunteered numerous times in my younger days, and my services were always refused. Since it’s clear to me that charities and non-profits have plenty of help, I’m enjoying myself not volunteering for anything except sleep studies.
You might be retired if you go to all kinds of fitness classes, but only to socialize.
I go to the community pool to work out at least four days a week.
Other people go too, but they move at the speed of an iceberg, as they carry on conversations about whatever they carry on conversations about. One pool was located in a retirement community, had one good lane for running, and I had to bob and weave around seven seniors clumped in groups, bobbing in the water and chatting about their latest friend to be carted off in an ambulance. (These are the glum statistics Trump is using for his ‘Don’t exercise and you’ll live longer’ rule.)
You might be retired if you no longer care about going to fitness classes, because you wear yoga pants 100% of the time.
Yoga pants make you feel as if you’re already fit.
Eat your hearts out, office staff.
You might be retired if you rarely buy bulk, because who knows what tomorrow might bring?
This is the reason I don’t buy a year’s pass to anything, or agree to automatic payments from my bank account. I do buy magazine subscriptions, but that’s only because magazines won’t let you subscribe for three months at a time.
I used to stock up on cleansers and canned goods like there was no tomorrow, but now I don’t do it, because there may be no tomorrow.
According to social media’s outlook on Tomorrow, if a Democrat is elected next, there will be no sun rising for America. And, if a Republican is elected, the sun will be obscured by smog.
You might be retired if your house is immaculate. Or filthy. Either one.
The kids are gone, and the grand kids aren’t welcome. This is your chance to clean the house and have it stay clean for more than five minutes.
Or, maybe you’ve worked hard for many years to keep it clean, and now you give a flying rat’s butt whether it’s clean or not.
Or, perhaps you’re like me, and you’re blind as a bat without your glasses.
The house looks perfectly clean when I don’t wear them, so I don’t wear them. It’s all good until I trip over that ant hill on the way to the sofa.
You might be retired if store clerks know you by name.
It gets harder and harder to find someone to talk to, and you’ve got a lot of time on your hands. You strike up conversations with anyone who’s forced to stand there and listen to you.
Used to be, you hated to talk to people. There was a good reason for this; the last time I struck up a conversation with a nice, attractive, educated fellow teacher, she told me that ‘Jews brought all their troubles on themselves because they turned away from God.’
Store clerks are different; they don’t have time to tell people things like this. They just want you to shut up about how things were done when you were young.
You might be retired if you’ve reinvented yourself with a home based business.
All of your friends and acquaintances are ‘invited’ over for coffee and a chat, and a presentation on how rich they’ll get selling vitamin supplements. Leave your wallet at home, and stuff yourself on their coffee cake.
You might be retired if your grand kids dominate your conversation.
These kids are the answer to the world’s prayers. Just ask Grandma.
You might be retired if you indulge in cosmetic refreshment.
All that money you had when you were employed was going to college funds and mortgage payments. Now, that money can go to ‘beautification projects.’
A Suburban Mom, according to the other post, gets her vagina ‘done’, whatever that entails. I’ll have to find out one of these days.
Mine just sits there, where it always has, and is performing her duties adequately and admirably. Much better than other parts of my body.
Retired boomers have the time and possibly the money, to get their va-jay-jays done, too.
You might be retired if…
You have a blog.