Sunday, February 08, 2009


The older we get, the more we fret about this and that. I remember the time I told my wife I couldn't find my favorite hat, "It's on your head," she said. just like that.

"I can't find the pie I baked to donate to the county fair," she said in great despair. "Get up!" I said. "By gosh, you're gonna squash it. You're sitting on it. It's right there beneath your bottom on the chair."

"Who took off my clothes last night?" I asked, turning on the bedroom light.

"You might remember, It was I," she replied with great delight. "Your 'passionate yawn turned me on. Your peck on my cheek made me weak. Ahh, but when we did IT, that was IT!"

"What Was IT?" I was confused.

She was amused. "Don't you recall? You squeezed me tight, turned off the light and,.."

"What a sexpot was I," you reminisced and gasped with a chill and a thrilling sigh."

"No sexier than I," was her reply. "I, too, you sexy you."

I remember, when I was twenty-two, what young lovers used to do. We rolled over in
the bed, cheek to cheek, and went to sleep.


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