Lemons to lemonade...

For men, one of the many joys of getting older is the challenge to grow a huge, award-winning prostate. Mine’s the size of an avocado. Florida, not California. I walk with a distinct cowboy saunter, as if I’d been riding horses all my life. Fortunately, I have my VA doctors available to certify the winning size of my flesh avocado located between the troublemaker and the waste factory.

I’m used to having to pee every few minutes, anywhere, anytime. There’s usually just enough time when I leave the bathroom to turn off the stove, and circle back again. The Publix parking lot works great too, even though I just left their men’s room. Trees interspersed on grassy islands. No problem. Five times at my AMVETS club before I leave. A quick stop at the park on the way home. Pulling into my driveway, there’s usually not enough time for me to get inside, so the hydrangeas get watered. It’s another way to give the lady who walks by with her nasty little Pomeranian just one more thing to huff about. She’s old so I’d expect a little more understanding. Actually, she walks a bit bowlegged too. That may be a pound or two of prolapse she’s carrying around.

So my VA nurse set an appointment for me to come in and test all my fluids. I told her not to wear her good shoes, you never know when a distraction may cause her to lose focus and turn back to see me splashing the floor. Saves her a paper cup anyway.

Turns out they want to plant a mini-atomic bomb right between the troublemaker and the waste processing plant. Much as that sounds like great fun, I told them to just take it all, like a woman with minor cancer in one breast who gets a double mastectomy, I’ll simply never have to worry about it again.

So I’m going to have all of my man parts removed, be like a Ken doll. But I’ve got one step more in my quest to turn lemons into lemonade.

I’ve been perusing outfits for older women on Amazon Prime. Cute and practical. I see a whole new world of possibilities on the horizon.

Carla will flourish with a female roommate. We can scrapbook in our jammies all night, maybe get facials, mani and pedi appointments side-by side before we go shop for shoes…

The grandkids can look at old pictures and point out grandma…and grandma.