As a teen, Lois was very judgmental. She disdained poor posture, overweight people, sloppy dressers. There were so many short comings, including taste in music which ran to Perry Como and Doris Day. Snore City.
She tried lecturing these unfortunates, but only wound up alienating people. She couldn't even get her father to shave his ridiculous mustache. He farted and burped and smelled funny in the morning.
Eventually she graduated college, married a stock broker and had three kids who grew into teens. After three pregnancies her posture stooped. She drank and ate too much and developed love handles. Her kids snickered when she played Bon Jovi music. Sometimes she passed wind and drooled. She avoided the scale.
One day she met a high school friend who looked in tremendous shape. Not a wrinkle. She asked how he did it. He smiled, revealing perfect white teeth, and said he had a hobby. Writing. He wrote short stories and had a blog. Everything flowed from writing.
Next day Lois joined an extreme hiking club. Writing was just too damn difficult.
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