My mother babysits for me during the day when I am at work. This morning she called to tell me she was going to be late because she had lost her dentures. She said she doesn't take them out when she sleeps (for the same reason I no longer sleep naked!) but they must have popped out while she was in the land of nod. She sleeps with her husband who is almost 80 years old and a temper to match Genghis Khan. I giggled when I imagined a similar scenario to the infamous cartoon of the fat woman looking for her lost puppy (for those who haven't seen it, go to) http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QznghF5j7Yc/TIDx8D5Y0QI/AAAAAAAABvU/F3TYZiONJ6c/s1600/funny-dog-cartoon-lost-puppy.jpg.
For a chuckle, insert dentures in to the bottom of grumpy old man. Worse yet, you don't really want to see her smiling anymore after they have been located!
My mother loses a lot of things in bed. (OK that didn't quite sound right.) When she was first dating Vlad the Impaler ( I enjoy sticking cute little nicknames on curmudegeonly Cliff) she was much younger and on hormone replacement therapy. For those of you not familiar with the medication involved, it comes in sticky patches that are applied to your abdomen or bottom. They produce estrogen through your skin. She woke up one morning to see the patch stuck to Vlad, and momentarily wondered if it might make him nicer, you know, all those women's hormones, but in the end decided to rip it off along with some thigh hair she hadn't counted on, waking him up with a start. My mother did what any sane woman would do. Collapsed onto her pillow and pretended to be asleep the whole time while maintaining a death grip on the feminine product. Mr. Tough, the Man of all Men, the one whose testosterone defines who he is and what his mood is going to be like, was probably only concerned that it had looked like he was trying to shave his upper leg. He would have kept that to himself. Along with a few milograms of estrogen therapy.
In the end my mother showed up to the house to babysit, teeth in place, no mention of where she found them. Since they both sleep au natural, it cannot be good.
For a chuckle, insert dentures in to the bottom of grumpy old man. Worse yet, you don't really want to see her smiling anymore after they have been located!
My mother loses a lot of things in bed. (OK that didn't quite sound right.) When she was first dating Vlad the Impaler ( I enjoy sticking cute little nicknames on curmudegeonly Cliff) she was much younger and on hormone replacement therapy. For those of you not familiar with the medication involved, it comes in sticky patches that are applied to your abdomen or bottom. They produce estrogen through your skin. She woke up one morning to see the patch stuck to Vlad, and momentarily wondered if it might make him nicer, you know, all those women's hormones, but in the end decided to rip it off along with some thigh hair she hadn't counted on, waking him up with a start. My mother did what any sane woman would do. Collapsed onto her pillow and pretended to be asleep the whole time while maintaining a death grip on the feminine product. Mr. Tough, the Man of all Men, the one whose testosterone defines who he is and what his mood is going to be like, was probably only concerned that it had looked like he was trying to shave his upper leg. He would have kept that to himself. Along with a few milograms of estrogen therapy.
In the end my mother showed up to the house to babysit, teeth in place, no mention of where she found them. Since they both sleep au natural, it cannot be good.
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