This past week I decided I want a "do-over". What’s a do-over? Are you puzzled? I’m sure in life you have longed for a do-over. The Merriam Webster dictionary describes a do-over as “The opportunity to do something again.” Yep…that’s what I want.
Oh, I don’t want to do-over my love life, my career or anything like that. No way. Let me explain what I want to do-over and why.
Our grands are here visiting from up state. Four little ones that include the ages of 1 month, 2, 4 and 6. After watching my grands, this old lady wants a do-over to be a kid again!
First, for the two little ones, I wouldn't have the old lady problems of finding the nearest restroom because I have an old lady bladder that has become weak over the years and probably caused by three babies in utero kicking and punching the heck out of it. Punching bags grow weak. I know sometimes you see a woman who you think is power walking right? Wrong! She is just your typical woman looking for the nearest restroom to relieve her bladder! The receptionist at our office laughs at me because she knows when I come running through from my office past her desk, I only have one thing in mind and everyone better get out of my way. Gotta go…gotta go. I am a perfectionist of the dance waiting for someone to exit the restroom!
If I could have a do-over...I'd just go in my pants...no worries...just keep on smiling. Eventually someone would change me and put a fresh diaper on me and powder me to smell good...oh wait...nope...can't use powder anymore. They say it's bad. And then, later, instead of Victoria Secret underwear that look like dental floss, I could get panties with princesses on them and the days of the week! Cool.
Another positive about doing a do-over for this fat old lady would be the fact that people would love my chubbiness. No longer would I be considered obese. My thunder thighs would become objects of cute little fat rolls...my protruding gut would be the Buddha belly to be tickled and my three chins and fat cheeks (oh my goodness...I just discovered I have three chins) would be squeezed and pinched and kissed to pieces. Pretty nice...huh? (NOTE...No one better come in and pinch my cheeks...oh...go on. Now if a handsome young buck wants to come up and kiss me...have at it! I’ll apologize to Mr. Wonderful later.)
The next thing would be the fact that I would not have to work. I keep hoping to win the lottery but my chances are better at being struck by lightning. If I did a do-over I could just wake up whenever I want, play with toys all day, get to take naps and oh yeah...get to ride all the rides at the carnivals and fairs. I would be taken to theme parks that would make my eyes wide with amazement and of course, have many trips to the zoo. My parents would smother me with kisses and my grandparents would double that and also, in my family, they would, "Beat the joy". You see, my Hollenbach side takes babies and little ones and squeeze them and pat their behinds while saying..."beat the joy...beat the joy". Don't ask...just go along with this! It's a tradition passed down through the generations of Hollenbachs although you can't say it too loudly nowadays and you pray the kids don't tell the teachers that "my mommy or my Grammy beats my joy." We would be hauled away and investigated for child abuse!
Now meals during the do-over would be easy. Everything would be prepared for me and I wouldn't have to scrounge through the refrigerator looking to see what I could possibly prepare or eat. It would come to me. Not only that, it would be served on a colorful plate that just possibly would have Elsa from Frozen or Spider-Man on it too. Way too cool! Of course, the one negative would be that I may be forced to eat a few things that I wouldn't like and as my mom would tell me, "You must eat it as the poor kids in China are starving for that!" Once when I was older, I told her, "Well let's get a box and send it to them." Needless to say, that did not go over very well and I believe I felt the end of the paddle that day.
Oh my goodness.... during the do-over I would get to do nap time!!! What adult doesn't need a nap. Although as a child I might fight it, it sure is nice when I finally fall asleep for several hours and then wake up to a little snack and enough energy to go on and play some more. On top of that, I would get to go to bed early! If I snored, my parents would say, “Oh how sweet. She’s so tired she’s snoring.” Now Mr. Wonderful just shoves me and roughly says, “Turn over…you’re snoring.” When I woke up, my parents would tell me that the sandman came and put sand in my eyes to make me sleep so mom would wash the crusty little pieces with a warm washcloth from my eyes. Now Mr. Wonderful tells me that he couldn’t sleep last night because my snoring made him dream of a freight train coming at him! (He really is hearing himself snoring.) And the piece de resistance…parents just love to cuddle a little one when they wake up and their drool is just wonderful. If I drool now, Mr. Wonderful just tells me, “You’re drooling. Get up and clean your face.” Oh, the romance in that man!
As a little one, my funny way of talking would be loved and considered so cute. Now when the Pennsylvania Coal Cracker Language comes out in me, people laugh like crazy. I say things like “aside”: next to, beside. "He's sittin aside a me.”, buggy: a grocery cart at a supermarket, daresn’t: "don't you dare" or "you better not do that", dippy egg: an egg, such as a soft-boiled or sunnyside-up egg, outen: to turn off, usually a light, coont – short for could not, onna conna – on account of, liquored up – drunk, redd up: to make ready, get ready and the way I pronounce the word beautiful. They say I pronounce it as beeyoutiful. Oh yes..in a do-over I would be very cute.
Yes, having the little ones in the house during Spring Break has really made me want a do-over but then again, I think I would miss some of the things about growing old. Things like a chubby little baby curled up on my chest snuggling in the morning. A two-yea-old rushing to hug and kiss me when I finally get home from work. A four- year- old sweetly asking, “Grammy…can we bake?”, a six-year-old describing the “manly things” he did with his Papa a/ka/ Mr. Wonderful during the day and a 9 year-old-telling me there is so much of me to hug and love.
I guess there are benefits to staying in the gray-haired old lady life that I’m in. Hey…who knows. Pretty soon I may be back in those diapers! Oh but to be a child again…………..
Doris has been inviting readers to, "Walk in My Shoes," for several years. She shares with us her unique, "local" opinion, while raising a few eyebrows along the way. Walk with Doris and enjoy her love of the neighborhoods, events, community groups, and most of all, the people of South Dade.
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