I LOVE OLD PEOPLE. Here’s why:
- I get to talk really loudly around them and they don’t give a rip. In fact, they kind of enjoy not having to strain to hear me. I am a loud talker anyway and this benefits both of us.
- Old people have lived through the shit, man. They have been through the fires and the celebrations and the depression and wars and many deaths and many births and they love to talk about it. And they can say whatever the hell they want about it too. Old people get a pass on saying inappropriate stuff. Something to look forward to!
- They usually have butterscotches. Or Velamints. Or something else that’s linty and delicious.
- Old people love babies. OHEMGEE. They love the young supple skin and the silly faces and the coos. And I’m happy to bring my babies right up to them and say hello when we are out and about and sometimes say things like, “HELLO! My babies would just love to meet you and say hi!” Old people tend to like that sort of thing. Unless they don’t, and then we just go along our merry way. No harm, no foul.
- Old people can talk about the good old days and what they USED TO WEAR. I have cat eye glasses and old people like that. That lets them talk about when THEY used to wear cat eye glasses and all the other killer fashion that they used to wear that they now can’t believe they wore or that they wish we all still wore. Trousers on ladies in the workplace, I DON’T THINK SO.
- They usually have kleenex. I usually need kleenex. WIN-WIN.
- Old men are awesome. They are adorable and walk with their hands behind their backs and wear cardigans and smell good and carry handkerchiefs. SWOON.
- Old women are trendsetters and trailblazers and I respect the hell out of them because I wouldn’t be where I am today without them paving the way.
- Sometimes old people are forgetful. I am forgetful all the time. We get along famously in our fumbling to remember shit.
- Old people were alive for the Beatles. THE END.
I hope I get to be an awesome old person some day.
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