MARY'S FOLLY

My friend, Mary may have low vision, but she makes up for it with extremely high energy and enthusiasm. She hangs with a crowd of women who have no idea what “old” means, and they approach life with vim and vigor. They snub their noses at anyone who calls them “elderly”.

One of Mary’s pals, Joan, recently had a hip replaced, so she suggested that her friends bring the cards and poker chips to her house, as she cried, “Let the games begin!”

Since Mary can’t drive, Gloria, her 92-year-old compatriot picked her up, along with another player, and they began the trek to Joan’s house, which is far, far away, on the other side of the moon. Bossy Mary took the co-pilot seat, and, although she can’t see that well, she played navigator all the way.

When they got to Joan’s house, and drove up the beautiful curving drive, Gloria said, “Look at that lovely yard. Isn’t it great how Joan’s husband, Buddy takes care of everything.”  The three women, of seasoned years, all got out of the car, carrying their bags of cards and poker chips, and rang the doorbell. After waiting for a few minutes, Mary rang the bell again.

Finally, the door opened, and a big man, wrapped in a white terrycloth robe, with his hairy legs exposed, said, “Sorry it took me so long, but we are in the shower.”

Mary said, “Oh, Buddy, you’re looking so good,” and she gave him a big hug. Whereupon she walked into the house and said, “Sorry, we’re early.”

Stopping her, before she could go any further, Gloria said, “Mary, that’s not Buddy. Buddy is a lot shorter than this man. We’re at the wrong house.” Happily, Gloria caught up with her before Mary got to the bathroom. After all, she wasn’t wearing a shower cap.

I never did find out who was in the shower with that man, but I suspect that he is still in shock---standing there in his comfy robe, with his hairy legs sticking out---wondering, “What in the Hell just happened?”

Sometimes life is just like that.

Esther Blumenfeld