A promise to my children

I always promise my kids, that as they grow older, they are going to have their hands full.....because I intend on being a feisty old broad.  I have promised to give them just a taste of the mischief that they have given me throughout their growing up.  I think it's more than just an empty promise...... a pipe dream, because in my Dad's hospitalizations at the end, I don't think anyone could characterize him as a "good patient"....so it's in the genes.....no stopping it now.  A dear friend of mine re-introduced me to the poem below....and I post it now.....as a promise to my kids.....that the best is yet to be  (tee, hee....)

Warning

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick flowers in other people's gardens

And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickle for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple. 

~ Jenny Joseph

“Just because you’re grown up and then some doesn’t mean settling into the doldrums of predictability. Surprise people. Surprise yourself.”

~ Victoria Moran