Waiting for the school bus, I hung on to the mail box to practice shuffle, hop, step- a basic tap step learned when I was about four. Four no more and a new hip, I can shuffle and step. The hop is gone replaced by a feeble lift of my heels. Oh well. At my age I don’t care what daughter’s neighbors say or care, I sang Sweet Geogia Brown to myself and practiced for about fifteen minutes until the the big yellow bus pulled up. Grandest ran into my arms almost knocking me over, waved to the driver and kids and talked endlessly.
“Grans, I’m worried about kissing a boy on the lips.”
“Any special boy?”
“No, it just sounds yucky. Can I have Mac and cheese. I have homework to do.” Mutitasking, she finished both food and homework and she suggested we go outside to play.
“Cool,” I said. We built a leaves and twigs thingy with stones sprinkled on top and then she ran to the big trampoline and scooped fallen leaves in a piles and fell into them. Suddenly she did a cartwheel.
“Honey, that’s a perfect cartwheel. Do it again.” I showed her how to breathe, stand and move. She worked on it for half and hour. Tenacious, my grandest. You see why I plan to keep my job for many years?
My Mature Romances are written for a reason. They prove, since I’m a senior with lots of experience, that life isn’t over until the final curtain. Meanwhile, enjoy every blessed moment, smile a lot and people usually respond. Stay close to your loved ones if possible.
If you enjoy reading as much as I do, please check out The Beginning. . .Not The End, my first three stories of Mature Romance.