The Bombshell Visitor

She had hoped the beachside drive along the coastal highway from home to the facility would help to calm her down some.  She loved the feel of the Gulf breezes whipping through her long blonde tresses, the warmth of the sun as it tanned her barren arms.  She would sometimes hike her peasant style skirt almost up to her waist in hopes of acquiring a little leg tan while skirting about town.  She giggled to think what a thrill truck drivers enjoyed as they passed her in the white LeBaron convertible.

She fancied herself to be a woman with some flare.  Her wardrobe had evolved into only peasant skirts and tank tops.  She had an extensive supply of scarves she would sometimes wrap around her waist, her neck and often use to tie up those gorgeous blonde locks of hers. Men eyed her up and down and she knew women wanted to be her, if for just one joyous ride in that convertible.

She hadn’t been to visit him in over 3 weeks.  She didn’t feel guilty.  He was 86 years old and truly loved it at the facility.  It was not  a difficult decision to make in placing him  there.  He could no longer care for himself.  Just last winter he fell and it was 2 days before someone was able to get to him.   Not only was he almost frozen, but starving also.  She definitely made the right decision in moving him to the nursing facility but now she realizes she must get him out of there, TODAY.

She had read and reread the stinging line of the registered letter.  “As your visits upset not only him, but also other guests and staff, your access to this facility is hereby revoked indefinitely.”  She knew he was upset when she left, who wouldn’t be.  So what if the staff had to do their job and calm him down after her departure.  He got over it and returned to his jovial self in no time.

She parked the aged Chrysler Le Baron convertible smack dab in the middle of the “no parking” zone. No need to put up the top or worry about being towed she decided.  She would not be in the nursing home facility very long, nor would he.

As she entered the double doors of the facility it seemed the entire staff swooped down ushering her into the nearest empty room. 

“Did you not receive the registered letter?” quizzed the director.

“That’s why I am here!” she adamantly exclaimed. “what is the deal?”

“Mrs. Boday, “ the director began in disgusted tones. “We tried to comprehend the 10 scarves you used to restrain your husband to his bed.  It took us over an hour to untie all the knots.  We looked the other way when you performed your pseudo “pole dance” for him.  However, we cannot allow any woman, much less one 70 years of age, to visit the facility in see through clothing without underwear.”

Assignment #2 Exageration

I have very large breasts. I would suggest they look like basketballs, but at my age they are now more like watermelons. They have such a presence I have named them Betty and Barbra but mostly I refer to them as “the girls”.

Betty and Barbra control all aspects of my life.  Sleep is always difficult, especially if Betty wants me to sleep on my back, Barbra wants me to sleep on my stomach, and I want to sleep on my side. My husband has placed pillows between us for fear he might be knocked unconscious when I turn over.

I can no longer swim because the girls float up, covering my entire face thus threatening to drown me. The weight required to weigh them down would send me straight to the bottom of the pool  so I plop them on the side of the pool to sun which was their desire all along.

I used to play tennis but as the girls grew in stature they decided to play net area while I preferred to play the service line.  I have never liked team tennis.

Crumbs never make it passed my breasts to my lap so I have exchanged napkins for bibs.  The bibs are dual purpose because the girls often poke around on my food plate to see what interests them. Before bibs everyone knew what the girls had eaten lately.

I know one might think how gorgeous the girls might look in Victoria’s Secret bras.  But alas, Victoria’s Secret does not make bras large enough to warehouse Betty and Barbra.  These girls require rebar underwire so I have them manufactured by a local welding shop.  The cutest design available is a hot copper number I wear on my anniversary.

Betty and Barbra have also been good friends to hang with.  They always make a grand entrance, entering rooms way before I do.  I own only one cocktail/evening dress which has a scooped neckline so the girls can see out.  I am able to wear this dress on every occasion as no one ever remembers the dress because the girls make such an impression.  I know they are more interesting than I am because it seems people talk to them rather than me.

They also made it possible to not lose any sleep breasting feeding my babies.  They easily stretched from the master bedroom to the nursery.

The best thing the girls have done for me was attract my husband. They caught his attention but then were gracious enough to let me wile him with my charms.  I am glad he wasn’t a leg man. 

As they have grown in stature, unfortunately so has the rest of me.  I would like to lose weight but I know that if I do so the girls will shrink. I am not sure I can part with my bosom buddies.