Quite a Load

As I was leaving work one afternoon, a voice behind me said, “Hey, Marta! That’s quite a load you’re carrying these days.” I gasped! He went on to say, “Yep, as my wife gets older, hers gets bigger, too.”

About the third or fourth blow to his upper torso, he croaked out, “Purse…purse”, and I thought, “Good idea!”, and began to swing my purse at him. I have never claimed to be a smart blonde; it took me five, or so, purse blows to realize that he was talking about my large purse and not my butt.

As I helped him back into his wheelchair, I pondered the size of my purse. I had no idea it was a clue, by its size, that I was getting older!

Damn.