I went to the doctor last week to get a physical checkup and his nurse told me that I had lost one inch of height since last year. I said. "No way, Clara Barton. I'm 5 foot 8 and a half inches tall and I've been that way since high school." "Yeah?" said Clara." "Well, you're 5 foot 7 and a half inches now, Bozo!"
How can that be? What happened? If I lost an inch in a year that means by the time I reach 90, I'll be 3 foot 9. I'll be like one of those candy makers in Willie Wonka. I had felt good about losing a lot of weight last year, but now to find out that I'm also shrinking has really put me off the exercise kick. Maybe if I put the weight back on, I'll get an inch of status back? No? I'm not enjoying this aging thing.
I also contracted a mild case of the swine flu in Federal Way, Wash., last week where I went to visit two of my daughters. I don't know who I got it from—it could have been anyone. My doctor informed me that they had traced the first swine flu epidemic back to 1957 and if I had it then, this would be a mild case because of immunity. It seems to hit a lot of younger people, but do they lose an inch? No!
I went to my first "super mall" on the Washington trip and bought some new pants. Next year, they will be too long. I have to start buying short now and selling long. As a matter of fact, the whole wardrobe should be thrown out the window because, apparently, I'm shrinking.
I used to bump my head on the top of the bunk bed (This is a completely whole different story) when I would rise in the morning. Now, I just pop right up unopposed. I guess some good has come from my melting.
I now have to face the fact that I am a dwindling person. I am one of the dwindlers on the planet. I'm a stubborn fellow and have never given an inch easily. Now, I'm apparently letting go in more ways that one. Sail on great ship! In my case, it should be paddle on, tiny boat, and wear your life jacket.
Nice talking to you.
